


Wasted Souls

by padalelli



Series: Wasting Time [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse world, Brainwashing, Childbirth, Demon possession, Episode: s12e11 Regarding Dean, F/M, Fluff, Men of Letters, Mostly Canon Compliant, Pregnancy, Season 15, Smut, The Bad Place, Wasting Time Series, angel possession, labor, non-con elements, orphan ofc, season 12, season 13, season 14, supernatural finale spoilers, tw: mentions of past abuse, tw: termination of pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27803884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padalelli/pseuds/padalelli
Summary: Part 3 of Wasting Time.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, implied past Ketch/Reader
Series: Wasting Time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990027
Comments: 17
Kudos: 27





	1. Keep Calm and Carry On

**October 13th, 2016**  
You woke up in a park with no idea where you were or what was going on. The last thing you remembered was celebrating Dean’s birthday and then going home… “The hell am I?” a gruff voice said from a distance.  
You stood up like a baby deer and stumbled back, waiting for your vision to clear up. “Help!” you called, realizing you must’ve been a victim of some sort.  
A man stumbled out of the forestry and stopped several feet away from you. He stared at you for a while before speaking. “[Y/N]?”  
You squinted your eyes and recognized a man who looked remarkably like Dean, only aged beyond his years. “Dean?” you choked out.  
He came closer, and you realized it _had_ to be Dean. But how? He just turned twenty-five, but this Dean was at least ten years older… “Are you… really you?” he asked, extending his hand.  
You slapped it away, instantly suspicious of what was going on. “Who are you?” you snapped. “Where am I?”  
He put his arms up defensively. “You’re alive… on Earth… it’s me, honey, it’s Dean.”  
“No. My Dean just turned twenty-five,” you denied, searching your mind for some sort of explanation.  
He whimpered and looked down. “I did when you died… twelve years ago…”  
Memories came flooding to the surface. _You got home… Azazel pinned you to the ceiling and set you aflame…_ Your knees buckled beneath you, and Dean caught you. “It’s okay, I gotcha sweetheart,” he murmured.  
You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him for support. “Dean,” you whined.  
He picked you up and carried you over to a bench, pulling some small brick out of his jacket pocket. “It’s okay, just relax, I’m gonna call for help, figure out where we are, take you home,” he reassured you.  
“Home?” you asked. Home burned down.  
“Not that home. A new one. It’s safe, I promise.” He held the brick up to his ear. “Dammit,” he muttered before tapping it a few times and trying again. _Is that supposed to be a phone?_ you wondered. “Cas, where are you?... Yeah, I’m alive, long story, I’ll tell you later. Listen, are you with Sam?” _He reconciled with Sam… but who’s Cas?_ “Okay, I’m on my way back to the bunker, we’ll figure it out when I get there.” He hung up and started tapping some more.  
_Bunker?_ “What are you doing?” you asked, shivering.  
Dean slid out of his cargo jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “Figuring out where we are so I can call a cab to take us somewhere we can hitch a ride…” he replied. He looked over and noticed how shaken you were, having just come back from the dead. He wrapped an arm around you. “What all do you remember?” he asked gently. “I saw you in Heaven once, do you remember that?”  
You shook your head, unable to trace any memories back to Heaven. “I don’t remember even being dead, Dean…”  
He sighed. “Okay, that’s okay. Come on, I’ve got a car on the way.”  
A few minutes later, a car pulled into the parking lot and Dean helped you in. The ride to the bus station was silent, and a few hours and another cab ride later, you were outside of some hydro-plant building. Dean let you lean against him as he walked you inside, finding it completely different than you were expecting. Like an underground library. _A bunker…_ “There’s some bedrooms this way, let’s sit down for a bit.” Dean led you down the corridors and into the room that was presumably his. “Cas!” he shouted once you were in a resting position.  
“Who’s Cas?” you asked.  
“A friend. An angel friend.”  
“Wait, what?” _An angel?_ “It’s not some girl, is it?”  
He scoffed. “No, Cas— it’s short for Castiel. He’s a he. Angel of the Lord, capital A, capital L,” he replied, sitting on the bed next to you. He caressed your face and gazed into your eyes. “You’ll always be my girl,” he whispered. After another moment, he murmured, “You still look so beautiful.”  
You could still barely process what was going on. You died twelve years ago and now by some miracle you were alive again. Which meant Dean was now thirty-seven and you were still twenty-four. “I better,” you joked. “It would be kind of fucked up if I aged in death.” It was the only way you could keep yourself grounded.  
He laughed when a pair of footsteps entered the room. “Who is this?” the man you assumed was Castiel asked.  
“This is [Y/N], [Y/N//L/N].”  
Castiel bore an expression of realization. “She died over twelve years ago, Dean…”  
“I guess Amara brought her back for me,” Dean tried to explain.  
“Amara?” you questioned. Who was Amara and how did she bring you back from the dead several years after the fact?  
“God’s sister,” Dean replied. At the same time Castiel said, “The Darkness.”  
_Neither of those things sounds very fun to deal with…_ you thought. “What the hell have you been hunting lately?” You asked rhetorically.  
“I’ll have to ease you into it,” Dean replied, turning back to the angel. “Can you do a little doctor scan on her for me?”  
Castiel stepped forward and placed two fingers on your forehead, and you felt a low thrum run through you. Then the angel furrowed his brows. “She’s fine, but…”  
“But what?” Dean asked impatiently.  
“No, it’s impossible…”  
“What?” you asked, anxious to hear what was wrong with you.  
“Amara must have brought her back in the same state she was in before she died…” Castiel deducted.  
Dean seemed to remember something that you couldn’t. “No,” he denied.  
But you still had no clue what they were getting at. “No what?!” You almost shouted.  
“Cas, can you give us some alone time?” Dean asked. The angel nodded and retreated out of the room, closing the door behind him. “Do you remember the voicemail you left me?” he asked softly.  
Your memories were still cloudy, considering they had been buried away for over a decade. You barely remembered your favorite moments with Dean, let alone the moments in the days leading up to your death. But you remembered Azazel, and how you were so afraid he would come for you… _but he didn’t come for just me…_ You subconsciously reached for your stomach, remembering the searing pain you felt in your abdomen right before you died. “Is Azazel dead?” you whispered.  
Dean snickered. “Yeah, has been for a while now. Man, I almost forgot about him,” he reminisced.  
_How could he forget?_ You certainly wouldn’t. “Dean, what did I miss?”  
He caressed your cheek and looked at you sadly. “A lot. But we can talk about all that later.”  
Then he leaned forward and kissed you tenderly, and damn if it didn’t still feel perfect in every way. “Dean,” you whispered. Somehow it felt like you were never gone— to you, at least. Then it occurred to you that Dean might’ve moved on given how much time he’d had. “I’m sorry,” you said suddenly, snapping yourself out of it. “You don’t have t—“  
He interrupted you by pressing his lips against yours again, this time more desperately. “You’re here because you’re what I wanted most,” he whispered. You had no idea what that meant, but you figured it would come later with his explanation. He pulled away again, as if he suddenly remembered something. “Do you want to take a shower? You’ll probably be more comfortable in one of my t-shirts and sweatpants.” You shook your head, definitely not confident enough in your ability to hold your own weight up in a room full of steam. “Okay, well how about I go make you something to eat?” he offered alternatively.  
_He never made anything, just got._ “Dean Winchester cooks now?”  
He snickered. “Yeah, well now that we’re settled down in one place and we have an awesome kitchen, I cook,” he said matter-of-factly.  
“We? Is Sam here, too?” you asked, trying to fill in the blanks.  
He smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I picked him up from college about ten years ago…” _Not long after I died…_ “What happened to you… it happened to my mom when I was four… and it happened to Sam’s girl about a year and a half after it happened to you…” he told you somberly. “It’s been just us ever since.”  
You nodded. “Um, so where is he?”  
Dean was suddenly in red alert mode, racing around his room to dig up some clothes for you before tossing them onto the foot of the bed. “I gotta find out. Don’t worry, I’ll get you some food,” he called as he left the room.  
And then you were alone. You changed out of the pajamas you died in and into the clothes Dean left you. You couldn’t believe he was approaching his forties, that he had survived that long as a hunter. Especially going up against things called the Darkness. You moseyed around the bunker, trying to get your bearings straight, and eventually wandering into the kitchen. “Oh,” you said upon meeting Dean’s gaze.  
He looked up from the counter. “Hey, sealegs,” he said affectionately. You looked at the plate he was fixing you and saw what looked like a homemade burger. “I missed seeing you in my old Zeppelin tees.”  
You looked down at yourself, taking a moment to process what he said, just like you had to do with everything now. “Yeah…” you mumbled. “It’d still be nice to have some clothes of my own…”  
Dean brought the plate over to the table and sat down with you. “We’ll get you some clothes on the way to get Sam,” he told you.  
“Did you find him?”  
“Cas thinks so. We’ll go check it out as soon as you finish that burger.”  
You picked up the sandwich. “We?”  
“Well, Cas is gonna have to come with me, and I’m not leavin’ you here alone.”  
“I thought it was safe here?” you wondered.  
“It is, but I don’t want to leave you alone at all right now.”  
You asked what you felt compelled to ask knowing that you came back from the dead. “Am I a monster?”  
Dean looked at you with wide eyes. “No, you’re not a monster. You’re you,” he said firmly.  
“What’s today’s date?” you wanted to know exactly where and when you were brought back.  
“October 14th, 2016. We’re in Lebanon, Kansas,” he replied.  
_2016…_ “Okay… um… you said someone named Amara brought me back?”  
Dean nodded. “Yeah. You could say I did her a favor, so she did me one.”  
“And Amara is… God’s sister? The Darkness? I don’t understand…”  
“Yeah. Let me rewind a little for you. After you died, I hunted with my dad, went to go get Sammy from college…” You could tell the story was about to get far more complex in order to escalate to God levels. “Then I almost died, dad sold his soul for me, Sammy died, I sold my soul for him, went to Hell for a bit, Castiel pulled me out, Sam and I started then stopped the apocalypse…” He thought for a few more moments. “Tried to close the gates of Hell, failed… had to get the Mark of Cain to defeat a Knight of Hell… accidentally unleashed the Darkness getting rid of the thing… teamed up with God to stop her from destroying the Earth…”  
“Oh, that’s all?” you teased while you swallowed the information. _So that was what Azazel meant when he said it was the Winchesters… It was always some kind of prophecy…_  
“No, actually, not all… I, uh… I got turned into a…” He suddenly seemed unsure that he wanted to tell you.  
“You got turned? Into what?” Was he not human anymore? That couldn’t be possible, he had aged.  
“I’m not anymore… but for a while I was…” He tried to reassure you.  
“What, Dean?” you prodded.  
“I was a demon,” he finally said.  
You furrowed your brows. _When he went to Hell?_ “Just because your soul was in the pit didn’t make you a demon,” you told him.  
Dean shook his head. “That’s not when I’m talking about. This happened two years ago.”  
That was so recent… “How?”  
“Can we talk about it later? This is the first good thing that’s happened to me in ages and I just want to enjoy it.” You nodded. “So you don’t remember Heaven at all?” he asked.  
You shook your head, trying to picture it to no avail. “The last thing I remember was going up in flames…” You shivered.  
“You don’t have to think about that anymore… But, um… back there, when Cas said… when he said you were brought back in the same state… You don’t know what he meant, do you?”  
Again, you instinctively clutched at your abdomen with the searing memory. But you shook your head. “No.”  
“Do you remember the voicemail you left me?”  
Then it started clicking together… a feeling of dread while you waited in a diner bathroom… that same dread leading you to leave Dean one last note, one last piece of you… The information you refused to allow Azazel to take advantage of… “No… I’m not…” _Pregnant._ Suddenly you were no longer hungry— in fact, quite the opposite. You were nauseous. You ran over to the kitchen sink, regurgitating the burger you just ate.  
Dean was right behind you, pulling your hair back. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll figure it out,” he soothed you.  
“I don’t wanna figure it out…” you mumbled.  
“I know… it’s okay… You know what, I’m gonna call a friend to take care of you while me and Cas find Sam…”  
“No!” you almost shouted at the thought of being left alone here with some stranger. “Let me come with you… I don’t want to leave you alone either…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader struggles to adjust to being brought back from the dead.

**October 23rd, 2016**  
You all had been able to find Sam and trace it back to what was phrased as ‘a Men of Letters misunderstanding’. _Whatever that means._ Shortly after, Dean had taken you to get a solid set of clothes. In the past week and a half, you were mostly getting caught up on everything you missed while you were dead. Dean helped you fill in the blanks, but things were kind of weird between you. You had your own room apart from his. You hadn’t even really been intimate.   
“Dean,” you spoke up, drawing his attention from the book he was reading. You were sitting in bed with him.  
“Hm?”   
_Well at least he actually looked at me._ “Are you… are we okay?” He shut his book and put it on the nightstand. “All we’ve done since I… got back… has been hunt and rewind the last twelve years… I know it’s been a long time, and things are different, but… I just remember a different version of you and me…” you said.   
He sighed sadly and looked at you longingly. “I’m sorry… Honestly, I’m not really sure what to do here either…” he replied. “I mean… the beautiful… _still young_ mother of my child was brought back from the dead…”   
You squinted at him. “Is _that_ what this is about? Our sudden age gap? Or the fact that I’m _still pregnant_ , by the way.”   
Dean shrugged. “I mean you gotta admit, the age gap is a little weird-- only because we were the same age before.” But you could hear it in his voice that he really just wanted to make you laugh.   
“You still look sexy as fuck, so it doesn’t bother me,” you joked back, earning a smile from him. “You still have the same smile,” you mused. “But seriously, can we talk about… the elephant in the room?”   
Dean rolled onto his side to face you and placed his hand on your stomach; Castiel estimated you were only about six weeks along by now, so you still had plenty of time. “What would make you feel most comfortable?”   
“Please, don’t ask me that. I don’t know. I barely even know what’s going on in your life now. I barely remember what I wanted to do when I found out the first time.”  
“Okay, then just talk me through what you would’ve done originally,” he suggested.   
You laid your head back against your pillow and took a deep breath. “I think… originally I was going to ask you what your thoughts were… But you and I both know what happened when we tried to settle down and have a life…”  
“I know, I know.” But he still didn’t know about those few days Azazel’s demons had you. “Listen, it’s your body here. And it’s you that’s having to adjust to being brought back from the dead. So I’m going to support you, whatever it is that you want. If you want to keep little Nate or little Addie, I’ll make sure we have what we need. But if you aren’t ready to take this step, I don’t think anyone would blame you. You already have a lot on your plate as it is,” he told you.   
You nodded, comforted by the thought that he remembered what you wanted to name them before you did. “I just don’t see a good outcome from having a kid right now,” you admitted. Maybe if you hadn’t just spent a decade not existing, you would feel differently, but that wasn’t the case.   
Dean pulled you into his arms and rubbed your back. “Okay. Later we can talk to Castiel, see if he can help us out.”   
You nodded and tucked your head into his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head. “Could we take a bath in that clawfoot tub I saw?” you asked meekly. “Or is that off the table, too?”   
He pulled back to look at you with confusion. “Was anything off the table?”   
You sighed. “Dean, we slept in separate rooms up until last night… And you barely touch me… I thought I was here because you wanted me… but it doesn’t feel that way…” your voice lowered to a whisper as you voiced your feelings.   
He pulled your face to his for a passionate kiss- the kind that said everything he couldn’t express with words. “I do want you, [Y/N], of course I do… I just didn’t want to make any assumptions.”   
You ran your hands across his stubble before kissing him again. You didn’t just say what you said to make him laugh; it was mostly true. _He is still sexy as fuck._ “It was twelve years to you, not me,” you murmured, rolling on top of him. His hands slid to your waist and pulled you closer against him. “You’ve had a bit of a dry spell recently, haven’t you?” you asked when you felt his erection against you.   
He sneered, almost insulted. “Weren’t you listening when I was telling you about all the shit I’ve been dealing with? Yeah, it’s been a minute,” he retorted.   
You giggled and resumed kissing him. “I’m just kidding,” you murmured against his lips. “Just promise me you didn’t catch any STDs,” you made one last joke.   
He laughed and lightly slapped your butt before rolling the two of you over so that he was above you. “Fuck you,” he sassed, kissing you again.   
“Yes please,” you said playfully, wrapping your legs around his waist.   
“I missed you so much,” he breathed before kissing your neck.   
“I’m sorry,” you whined. You knew all the pain you caused him, even in your absence-- the monsters that used you to torture him. Evidently you helped him out in Heaven at one point, which tracked. You were even a couple in a different universe, apparently. But all those thoughts faded away when you felt his hands against your skin. “Dean,” you moaned as he fumbled to remove your clothing.   
Once the fabric barriers were gone, Dean interlocked your fingers and placed gentle kisses across your neck and collarbone. “So perfect…” he murmured.   
“Dean, kiss me,” you breathed, craving the feeling of his lips against yours. He did as you commanded and you entangled your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly as you swept your tongue across his lips. “Dean,” you moaned, wanting him to just cut to the chase already. He hitched your leg around his waist and lined himself up before pushing into you. _Holy moly…_ You swung your other leg around his and rolled him back onto the bed so that you could control the pace. Dean looked so incredibly blissful when you looked down at him, and you snickered to yourself. You leaned forward to whisper seductively in his ear, “You like that?”   
He reached around to rake his nails down your back, anchoring his hands to your hips and digging his nails into your skin. “Uh huh,” he whimpered before pulling your face to his. The kisses started rough, but turned intimate when Dean forced a slower pace. “I love you,” he breathed into your lips. He rolled you onto your sides, allowing for an even deeper angle.   
You gently bit his lower lip before replying, “I love you…”   
Then all thoughts evaded your mind as you felt the tingle in your core explode throughout your body, trembling around Dean. You bit down on his shoulder to muffle your shouts when you felt him coming inside you, squeezing your ribs as he rode out his orgasm. When Dean caught his breath, he said, “I’ve always loved you. You have to know that.” He caressed your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.   
You smiled. “I think I do,” you told him.   
“Did you still wanna take a bath?” he offered. You nodded and he gently withdrew himself. “I’ll go run the water,” he said as he put his robe on.   
You cleaned yourself up and threw on one of Dean’s flannels while you waited for him to get the bath ready, looking over his room. You found a pile of pictures on his desk, mostly of him and his family, but there was one of the two of you from when you went to the fair. You smiled to yourself at the thought of him keeping it all these years-- you never would’ve guessed you would be such a significant blip in his life. Suddenly you heard a knock on the doorframe. You looked up, expecting Dean, but instead it was Sam. “Hey, sorry if I’m interrupting… I just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing… I know adjusting can be difficult…”  
“Oh, uh, yeah… thanks…” You never knew Sam before you died, but he seemed like a gentle soul. “Hey, would you mind giving me your opinion on something?” you asked hesitantly.   
Sam crossed his arms. “I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be, but sure, yeah,” he replied.  
“Did Dean and Castiel tell you? You know, the situation…” You placed your hands over your stomach.   
He nodded. “Cas did, yeah. Dean… hasn’t really talked about it with me…”  
“If I had been able to tell him before I died… I don’t know what I would’ve wanted then, either,” you admitted. “But at least he would’ve helped me figure it out… Now it’s too late, and he says I should decide on my own…”  
Sam exhaled. “Listen, I know the Dean that you remember is probably a little different than the Dean you see now… But I’ve seen how much he loves you, [Y/N]. He’s just trying to be supportive. You know him, he represses everything. You just gotta nudge him a little more to get his feelings out.”   
You nodded. “Yeah, I know… This is just… it’s all so crazy.”  
He snickered. “Welcome to being a Winchester… I’ll be in the library with Cas if you need anything,” he told you before leaving.   
Dean came back a few minutes later. “You’re lucky that tub is so huge,” he joked.   
“Don’t act like you haven’t used it,” you teased back. He took your hand and led you to the bathroom that had the tub. He had set up candles all around the room so you could turn the lights off while you took your bath, and the tub was full of suds. “Dean…” you whispered in amazement when you saw all the care he had put into your intimacy time.   
“I’m sorry I’m not the man you remember…” he apologized.   
You took his face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “Don’t be. I can see how much you’ve been through, how much you’ve grown… I’m only sorry that I couldn’t do it with you,” you told him. Once you sat down in the tub in front of Dean you decided to broach the subject again. “I know you said you wanted me to make my own decision…” you began. “But if I told you that I wanted your input, what would you say?”  
He nuzzled into your shoulder. “I already told you my input,” he murmured.   
You sighed frustratedly. “Pretend I’m in a coma and you have to make the decision for me.  
“I mean, the coma adds all kinds of variables,” he joked.   
That got a giggle out of you. “I’m serious… if I had gotten to tell you when I should have… What would you have said?”  
“[Y/N], if the question is whether or not I want you to have my children, the answer will always be yes. Unfortunately, it’s a question of whether we should be bringing children into this life in the first place. And that’s something I don’t think either of us are ready for just yet. But if that’s something that you want down the road, we can talk about it.”  
“I’m just scared, Dean… I never wanted a perfect life, but this… I’ve missed out on so much of you… What if I’m just a fantasy? What if we’re not compatible anymore?” you worried.   
Dean enveloped you in his arms and pulled you tighter. “Stop worrying about that. We were together for two and a half years, and I really haven’t changed as much as you might think. I’m sure we’re still compatible. I’ll make you a promise right now, date night once a week.”  
You craned your neck to look back at him. “Dean Winchester? Weekly date night? You know hunts don’t count, right?”   
He chuckled throatily and you relaxed back into him. “I know. But what _will_ count is me taking you out in Baby, me cooking you dinner, hell we can even go out on the town for whatever you want. Movies are way better than they used to be. You know, they’re making another Star Wars trilogy?” He was finally talking like you had a future again.   
“Oh yeah? Is it any good?”   
“Eh. I’m more looking forward to the Han Solo movie.”  
“Oh, so Han has his own movie now?”  
“Well, not yet. Maybe we can go see it when it comes out,” he proposed.   
You smiled. “I’d love that.” It made you realize you had time ahead of you now, actual time that you could spend together. You weren’t dead anymore and you didn’t plan on going back anytime soon. “I have to ask…”  
“Hm?”   
“Are you going to keep me and Sam away from each other? Or am I allowed to get to know him?” You remembered how he had been about you meeting his father.   
He snickered to himself. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I never told you.”  
“Never told me what?”   
“Your mom called the day after you died. She said your dad got better out of nowhere. They got you a headstone and everything. I haven’t checked on them lately, though…”  
“That’s good, I’m glad they got more time together…” you reflected sadly. You weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to check on them now— they would either both be dead, both alive, or one of each. No matter what the case, you didn’t know if you were ready to process that information. “I’ll check on them when I’m… more ready.”  
“Take all the time you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys please comment letting me know how you are liking the new addition to the series!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean try to rekindle your romance while dealing with the death of one of the few people left that you knew.

**October 24th, 2016**  
“Oh shit, did you want to do something for Halloween?” Dean asked from his place across the kitchen table.  
You sneered. “As if I understand enough of the current cultural trends to pick a costume. No thanks, I’d just as soon take Baby out to a field and spend the night eating candy in the car,” you replied, mouth full of bacon.  
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, you’re definitely still the perfect girl for me.”  
“What did I say about calling me a girl.” You despised that you were ‘girl’ instead of ‘woman’ now.  
He put his hands up. “Sorry. Force of habit.”  
Things were quiet while you finished the food in front of you. “I think there’s something else that I should’ve told you about before it was too late,” you admitted, pondering one of the things that was bothering you most recently.  
He looked at you like he knew exactly what you were referring to. “I think we should go for a drive,” he suggested.  
Dean and you took Baby out to a clearing and put her in park. He scooted closer to you and threw his arm over your shoulder, waiting until you were ready. “I’m sure you have your suspicions about what happened to me those few days…” you started. “I’m sure those suspicions are probably accurate…” When you looked over at Dean you saw a single tear slip down his face. “They had me in that barn the whole time… They did pretty much whatever they wanted to me… They did not like all the attitude I gave them…” Tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered the gorey details of the story. “They stripped me down… tied me to a pole… carved into me… waterboarded me… beat me senseless… and then--”  
“Shhh, you don’t have to say it,” he murmured, shaking his head.  
“They would just keep repeating the cycle…” you whimpered.  
“Stop. You’re okay now. I’m never gonna let anything like that happen ever again.” You curled into him and rode out the wave of catharsis you so desperately needed. Once your sniffles settled, Dean said, “It’s you and me now, I promise. Sam and Cas, they’ll help keep you safe, too.”  
“Can Cas take care of our problem when we get back? I want to get it out of the way so I don’t have to think about it anymore…”  
“Only if you’re absolutely sure,” he replied.  
You nodded. “I am.” 

**October 30th, 2016**  
“Woah, where are you guys going all dressed up?” Sam greeted you and Dean on your way out.  
Dean draped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer. “It’s date night, Sammy,” Dean said with more excitement than you would’ve anticipated.  
“Say no more,” Sam replied with a wave of his hand. “You kids go have fun.”  
“So what do you have planned for our first official ‘date night’?” you asked Dean once you got in the impala.  
“Well, obviously we’re starting off at a five star steakhouse,” he told you.  
“Obviously,” you snickered. “I mean, I figured there was a reason we had the Fed clothes on.”  
“Not Fed clothes tonight. Date night attire,” he said matter-of-factly.  
“You know, I seem to remember a time when you called that thing a monkey suit,” you teased.  
“Yeah, well, I was still in my twenties when I said that,” he muttered.  
You slapped his arm lightly. “Will you stop griping about the fact that you aged and I didn’t? It’s not exactly helping with how guilty I feel…”  
Dean softened a little when you said that. “ _You_ need to stop feeling guilty. Everything was my fault, and now it’s not fair to you,” he snapped.  
“What’s not fair to me?” you asked obliviously.  
Dean looked at you like you should’ve known what he was talking about. “That you missed out on so much, and now you’re stuck with a version of me that’s already grown without you.”  
You sneered. “Dean, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m happy that I’m here now? Is it an adjustment? Fuck yes. Is it an easy one? Fuck no. But you’re still the same man that I fell in love with, and I couldn’t be more grateful that at least I have you.”  
He let out a lengthy, somewhat frustrated sigh, so you scooted closer and pecked his cheek, your hand roaming to his thigh. “Honey…” he growled lowly. “If you make me pull over, we’re gonna be late for our reservations.”  
You giggled and continued placing gentle kisses on his neck. “Then don’t pull over,” you challenged, lightly squeezing his thigh. Dean barely made it to the restaurant without parking somewhere out of sight and just taking you.  
You were both in a state of awe when you arrived at the chophouse, having never been to a nice restaurant outside of working a case. Dean’s eyes widened at the menu like it was a porno magazine, and you knew he was ogling at the steaks. “Holy shit that’s a big Porterhouse,” he mumbled to himself, and you chuckled.  
“Well, judging from all the apocalypses that didn’t happen because of you, I think you deserve it.”  
He gasped excitedly. “Oh, they have lobster mac…”  
_He’s so fucking cute,_ you thought. You felt like you had never gotten to see each other relax, making this a very welcome sight. “I’m down for lobster mac,” you replied happily. “As long as we save room for dessert. I saw a slice of chocolate cake on the way in, and I _have_ to know what it tastes like.”  
Dean glanced up at you with a sultry look in his eyes. “You save room for your dessert, I’ll save room for mine,” he murmured, throwing you a wink.  
_Oh mama…_ You pressed your index finger against your lips, indicating him to be quiet. “I’m sure there will be plenty of time for that when we get home,” you whispered back. 

**November 17th, 2016**  
“Hey guys, Jody just called,” Sam said upon entering the library. “Asa Fox just passed.”  
_Asa Fox?_ “Wait, I know him. He saved my ass from a bunch of wendigos before I started hunting with Dean,” you told them.  
“Wait, you mean you actually _saw_ him take down those five wendigos at once?” Dean asked in amazement. “How come you never told me that?”  
You shrugged. “It didn’t seem all that relevant. Plus you never asked. Anyway, we should go to the memorial.”  
You thought you were prepared to deal with such an event, given that you had been back for a month and no longer had certain things to worry about, but as soon as you stepped into the house and you saw all the hunters that thought you were dead, and a few that you didn’t recognize, you felt uneasy. “Sam, Dean, so good to see you,” a woman with short dark hair said cheerfully as she hugged them. “Who’s this?” she asked.  
“Jody, this is [Y/N], my… girlfriend,” Dean told her, unsure what to call you. In his opinion, you should’ve already been a Winchester.  
Jody cocked her head a little but still didn’t hesitate to smile and hold out her hand for you to shake. “No offense, [Y/N], but aren’t you a bit young for Dean here?” she asked jokingly.  
You snickered as you shook her hand. “Actually, um… I was born in 1980,” you replied meekly, resulting in an even more shocked look from Jody.  
“Wow, you have _got_ to tell me your secret,” she said, looking over to Sam who was giving her the ‘stop talking’ gesture.  
“Um…” you started, unsure whether or not to lighten the mood by joking about it. Then you realized you were at a memorial service. “Maybe later.”  
But you majorly regretted even coming in the first place by the time the group of hunters was able to exorcise Jael from you before he tried snapping your neck. You collapsed onto the floor on your hands and knees, coughing for fresh air. Dean and Sam knelt down next to you, Dean pulling you into his arms. “Fuck that,” you groaned, referring to the feeling of being trapped in your own body.  
Dean breathed a sigh of relief and stroked your hair. “That was way too close,” he told Sam.  
Sam nodded. “She needs the ink,” he stated.  
You assumed he was referring to the same tattoo that Dean had over his heart, an anti-possession symbol. You squeezed Dean’s bicep and curled further into him, somehow exhausted. “Let’s just get her home for now,” the elder Winchester replied.

**November 19th, 2016**  
You decided to get your anti-possession symbol on the back of your neck, between your shoulder blades, but the remaining soreness left you ready to climb into bed. “I’m gonna go take a nap,” you told the boys when you arrived back at the bunker.  
Dean followed you on the way to the room you now shared. “Hold on, let me unwrap and rinse that for you,” he offered, referring to your fresh tattoo.  
You groaned. “Can you do it while I lay down?” you asked tiredly, slipping your shirt off once the door was closed.  
“Yeah,” he replied patiently, slowly peeling the plastic wrap off away from your skin. “Okay, lay down on your stomach, I’ll grab a wet washcloth and some ointment.”  
You did as you were told and Dean returned a couple of minutes later with a cold towel, gently scraping away the dried blood that had seeped to the edges of the tape and dabbing the rest before wringing out the soapy part onto your ink. He gently dabbed the soapy water away before applying the ointment. The whole routine almost put you to sleep, but the feeling of Dean trailing kisses down your spine woke you right back up, goosebumps rising in your skin. You hummed, and he settled in the bed beside you, pulling you into the little spoon position. “Gonna mess it up,” you mumbled incoherently.  
“Nuh uh,” he retorted, tangling his legs in yours.  
“Don’t you have research to do?”  
“Wanna nap with you…” He pressed his lips against your neck.  
“Can’t sleep with you kissin’ me like that…” His hand snaked under the waistband of your sweatpants and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. “Dean…” you whined.  
“What?” He played dumb.  
“Stop making me horny. I’m too tired to be horny,” you griped.  
He withdrew his hand and kissed your cheek. “Okay, okay,” he laughed. “Get some rest, baby,” he cooed. 

**November 22nd, 2016**  
Dean proudly entered the kitchen with what looked to be a large frozen turkey. “Oh boy,” you sighed, catching Sam’s attention.  
“No. Dean. No. You are not cooking Thanksgiving,” Sam said firmly, his concerns obviously matching yours.  
“What? I’ve cooked Thanksgiving before,” he replied defensively.  
“Dean, if you’re referring to when you ‘cooked’ a turkey for us that one time, allow me to remind you what we actually ended up eating for dinner,” you sassed.  
“Hey, I only messed up that one because you seduced me out of the kitchen!” Dean argued.  
“You had plenty of time to get the food out of the oven and you know it!” you responded.  
“God, I feel like I’m watching a sitcom,” Sam muttered.  
“Anyway. Dean, do you even have a plan for anything but turkey?” you asked.  
“We got the bird, that’s the most important part!”  
Even Sam scoffed at that one. “Everyone knows Thanksgiving is all about the sides,” he said.  
You pointed at Sam. “I’m going to have to agree with your brother on this one, babe,” you told Dean.  
“You could just make a pie!” Dean suggested.  
“Pie is not a side,” you and Sam responded in sync, giving each other a strange look after.  
“That was weird,” Dean stated.  
You rolled your eyes. “Fine, babe. I’ll make pie. But I am also going to get some ingredients to make some other sides.” You looked over to Sam, knowing he sustained a healthier diet than Dean. “Sam, is there anything in particular you like? I make a mean cranberry sauce, maybe I can hook you up with a Thanksgiving salad or something,” you offered.  
Sam seemed caught off guard for some reason, staring at you. “Wow, she is exactly like the fake version of her,” he said when he finally turned to look at his brother.  
You weren’t one hundred percent sure what Sam meant, but you assumed it had something to do with the times you and Sam interacted while you were dead— interactions you had no memory of. “I’m still right here,” you reminded him.  
Sam chuckled. “Sorry, no, if there’s going to be a Thanksgiving meal here, I am more than happy to pig out on the traditional dishes,” he replied. “I’m happy to help cook, too. We can make a day out of it,” he proposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta say, I am loving how horny y'all are for fluff and communication right now because that is basically what the story is going to be like. You guys deserve it after all the angst. KEEP COMMENTING PLEASE.<3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the boys celebrate Thanksgiving before they have to go on a hunt for Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has both fluff and angst!

**November 24th, 2016**  
You had set your alarm for the crack of dawn, wanting to get an early start on Thanksgiving dinner before Dean could fuck too much up. You quickly quieted the alarm, looking over to make sure you hadn’t woken Dean— you didn’t. You slid out of the bed and threw on some leggings and one of Dean’s flannels before padding into the kitchen, where Sam had evidently had the same idea you did. “Morning,” you greeted him cheerfully.   
He looked up and smiled. “Oh hey, I was just going ahead and prepping these ingredients so they’re ready to go,” he told you. “I’m chopping these onions and celery right now, but you can work on slicing either the bread or the sweet potatoes,” he suggested.   
“Hmm…” you debated, leaning against the steel table and looking at the spread in front of you. “Where are your cooking snacks?” you asked.  
He raised a brow. “Cooking snacks?” he questioned.   
“You know… snacks to munch on while you cook so that you don’t pass out or accidentally eat everything?” You assumed he knew all about Dean’s constant munchies.   
Sam rolled his eyes and turned around, reaching back into the fridge before placing a full glass in front of you. “Strawberry banana smoothie?” he offered.   
_Oooh, that sounds delicious…_ You slid the glass closer before picking it up and taking a sip. “That’s yum,” you told him, eagerly gulping down more. Then you saw him giving you that sad puppy look again. “Hey, Sam… I’m really sorry that Dean got me back and you didn’t get Jess or your mom back…” You had been noticing the small pangs of pain Sam looked at you with sometimes, and you felt so bad that out of everyone they had lost, you were the one that got brought back.   
He smiled painfully and kept focusing on the task in front of him. “[Y/N], it’s…” _Not okay._ “You don’t have to apologize for that,” he told you. “You didn’t ask to get brought back… Besides, if it had been me with the Mark of Cain, it’d be a different story.”   
You grabbed the loaf of bread and the bread knife to start slicing chunks for the stuffing. “No, I know… but… I don’t know… I see the way you look at me and Dean, like you wish you could’ve brought Jess back. Or… almost like resentment, even.”   
He sneered. “I don’t resent you. Or Dean.”  
“I know, I know. If it’s any consolation… if it had been you, and you had been able to get Mary or Jess back… It would still be messy. At least they aren’t having to experience this bizarre, incredibly sticky situation.” You tried to convince him that maybe things turned out for the better this way.   
“Thanks… It means a lot to hear you say that, actually,” Sam said after a while.  
“Good. That’s why I said it.”   
Dean came into the kitchen a couple of hours later in his robe. “Hey, what’s all this?” he asked. “Thought this was supposed to be a family event.”  
“This was not planned, I just wanted to let you sleep in,” you defended.   
Dean kissed the top of your head before lifting your empty smoothie glass and glaring at it. “Sam, you better not be tainting her with your ‘healthy diet’ bullshit.”  
You tucked yourself into Dean’s arms and looked up at him. “How ‘bout I make you a delicious yet not necessarily healthy breakfast smoothie?” you offered before placing a tender kiss on his lips.   
He responded in kind and hummed, “Mhmmm.”   
You felt his lips smile against yours before pulling away. “And we haven’t touched the turkey yet, so you can calm yourself down,” you murmured, patting his chest.   
Several hours later, the three of you sat back with happy smiles and full bellies. “You guys really do seem at home together,” Sam observed. “It makes me happy…” He smiled softly.  
“That means a lot, Sam,” you told him. “Thank you.”  
Sam scooted his chair back from the library table and stood up, yawning. “Welp, I’m goin’ to bed. Night guys,” he said before leaving.   
You turned to Dean. “You want another piece of pie, don’t you?” you asked playfully, reaching for his dessert plate.   
He reached across the table and snatched your wrist, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I’ll have it in the bedroom.”   
And he used that voice that made your insides melt. _Oh, he’s feeling frisky…_ “Oh really?” you murmured back. “Well, how about you go get your pie… and meet me in our room?” you replied seductively. He nodded eagerly before kissing you then practically running to the kitchen.

**December 1st, 2016**  
“Lucifer? You’re telling me that we have to go deal with _Lucifer_?!” you asked as you paced around the war room. “Look, I know you guys are used to this stuff at this point, but the last time was near a demon, I was possessed. Before that I _died_. And before that, I was _tortured_ and _barely_ made it out alive. I am _not_ cut out for this.” You felt like you were barely holding back a panic attack as it was.   
“No, honey. Sam, Cas, and I will take care of it while you stay here, where it’s safe,” Dean told you from his place at the map table. He knew that if you were pacing, you needed to keep moving, so he didn’t try to physically comfort you.   
“No, I can’t sleep alone anymore,” you protested.   
Dean furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?” You started pacing faster. “[Y/N].”  
You huffed. “You were on that hunt with John for three weeks…”  
He stood up and came to stand in front of you. “What happened?”  
You stopped and shook your head. “Just nightmares… _incredibly vivid_ nightmares… about what happened…”   
Dean wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I’m trying to protect you from even worse nightmares, baby,” he told you softly.   
“Dean, if you go into this without me… What if you don’t come back?” Your voice trembled. You had just been brought back, and if Lucifer were to kill Dean, you had no idea what you could possibly do without him.   
He took your face in his hands and pressed your foreheads together. “I’m gonna come back. I promise.”  
You held his wrists and let your tears fall. “You know you can’t promise me that.”  
He shook his head. “I can. I really can.” His voice was pleading. “It’ll be me, Sam, Cas, Crowley, and Rowena. Plenty of manpower, promise.”  
You sniffled. “How long will you be gone?” His sigh told you everything. “You don’t know…”  
“You’ll have the phone I got you. You should be able to get used to it pretty quick. We can talk as much as you want… If you don’t want to be alone in the bunker, I’m sure Jody would be happy to let you stay with her and the girls. You’ll be plenty safe with them,” he reassured you, placing a kiss on your lips. “We can drop you off on the way, if you want.” You nodded, craving the extra few hours with Dean, and wanting to avoid being alone for an extended period of time at all costs. 

**January 23rd, 2017**  
Dean had kept his word- for the first week. Then radio silence. From him and Sam. Luckily for you, Dean put all the important contacts you might need in your phone. Cas picked you up from Jody’s and took you back to the bunker as soon as the brothers had gone off the radar six weeks ago. He had literally been your guardian angel ever since. You were sitting in the library, searching for a lead on Kelly Kline, when Castiel got a call from an unknown number. He answered and placed it on speaker, hoping for good news. “We hear your boys are imprisoned at Site 64,” a British voice said. “And we are willing to retrieve them for you in return for a future favor.”   
Before you could respond, Castiel abruptly said, “Deal.”   
“Brilliant. We will be bringing them home to you in due time.” Then the call ended.   
“Castiel, they _tortured_ Sam and tried to kill us when we went to rescue him!” you shouted. “We can’t trust them to bring them back unharmed!”   
“It was a misunderstanding, [Y/N]. I am on reasonable terms with them now. If it’s the only way to get Sam and Dean back, we have to take it,” he said firmly. 

**January 26th, 2017**  
As soon as you heard the door to the bunker screech open, you raced out of your room and leapt into Dean’s arms as soon as he was on solid ground, fisting your hands in his hair. “Oh my god, I thought I lost you!” you cried.   
He wrapped his arms around you just as tightly and buried his face in your neck. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered.   
You shook your head. “You can’t do that to me again,” you said, your lip quivering. “Ever. From now on, I come on every hunt with you. I don’t care if Lucifer is involved, I need to be there,” you determined.   
He didn’t want to argue, so he just nodded and said, “Okay. I’ll meet you in bed soon, kay?” You hesitantly released him from your embrace and gave Sam a quick (but also very tight) hug before trudging back to the room and curling up in the bed. About half an hour later, Dean slid into bed behind you and wrapped you in his arms. “We got arrested for ‘attempting to assassinate the president’,” he explained.   
You were quick to blame yourself “I should’ve been there.”  
“No, I told you not to come,” Dean argued. “Then I got myself locked up. This is on me.”   
“It doesn’t matter who it’s on, Dean. What matters is that I am in this with you from here on out.” He sighed heavily, not replying. “You can’t fight me on this, Dean.”  
“I know. That’s why I’m not trying to.”  
You rolled over to face him and realized you hadn’t kissed him since he got back. He seemed to realize the same, and you both smashed your lips against each others’ like you needed it to live. He smelled like he had taken a quick shower before coming to bed, and you relished in the scent of home. His hands traveled to your waist and pulled your hips flush against his, growing needier with every breath. “Dean,” you breathed, combing your fingers through his hair. He started to roll on top of you, but you stopped him. “How are you? I mean, you were just in prison for six weeks…”   
“Exactly, which is why I want to be as close to you as I possibly can,” he said before placing kisses along your neck.   
“Dean, I know you tend to repress stuff,” you spoke breathily, fighting your instincts to just let him do whatever the fuck he wanted. “But I think we should talk about this.”   
“I promise we’ll talk about it later,” he murmured before reclaiming your lips. 

**February 9, 2017**  
You had been searching for Dean nearly all night when a little gray rabbit finally led you to him. “Oh my god, Dean!” you exclaimed, dropping to your knees and shaking him awake.   
He sat up groggily. “Aw fuck, why do I feel like I’m hungover?” he groaned. You patted him down, checking him over for wounds. He seemed to have a few bruises here and there, but nothing too serious. Maybe a concussion, because you knew he couldn’t be hungover. He had gone rogue after the witch, so he must have been knocked out for most of the night. You lifted his eyelid and he smacked your hand away. “I’m fine,” he huffed, standing up.   
He looked around and took in his surroundings. “Ah,” he said upon spotting the waffles sign. “Breakfast?”   
_What the hell happened last night?_ you wondered. “Yeah…” you replied suspiciously. “I’ll call Sam.”  
The first red flag was when Dean called the motel room lamp a ‘light stick’. The next red flag was his regression to his twenty-three year old horndog self and intensely vivid memories of hunting with you, but not hunting with Sam. The signal for Sam to call Rowena to fix him was when he regressed even further to memories with little Sammy but not with you. By the time Sam and Rowena closed in on the witches responsible- leaving you to take care of Dean- you were constantly reminding him that you both hunted monsters, that monsters even existed. Then there was the loss of his most basic vocabulary. Then the worst. “Oooh, who are you, sweetheart?”   
Your heart broke. You had to text Sam and find out where he was with Rowena as far as reversing the spell. _~SAM!! Dean is getting worse- WAY worse!! Hurry!!~_ You put your phone back down on the nightstand and sat on the bed next to Dean, grabbing his face in your hands. “It’s me, honey, it’s [Y/N], please, please don’t forget. And you’re Dean. Dean Winchester,” you reminded him of who he was. “Sam is your brother. John and Mary are your parents.” You noticed your voice trembling, and twisted your fingers into the hairs on the back of his neck.   
“[Y/N]... you’re her… you’re my…” he whimpered, cupping your cheek. You could tell he was scared when he said, “Please hold me.” You laid back against the headboard, Dean resting between your knees, clinging to your waist, using your breasts as pillows. “My name is Dean Winchester… Sam is my brother… my parents are…” You began reciting his identity along with him, wanting to keep him grounded as long as you could. You tried not to let him hear the cracks in your voice. Fortunately, Sam and Rowena returned before Dean forgot the perfunctory operations, like breathing.   
You and Sam sat on the hood of the impala outside of the motel room while Rowena used the Black Grimoire to restore Dean to normal. “I hated seeing it, Sam,” you whined. “He forgot who I was…”   
“S’okay, Rowena’s fixing him up right now. That’s what the purple glowing is,” he tried to comfort you.   
“I know… but…” you sighed. “I’m just thankful you didn’t have to watch it happen, too,” you told him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean agree to go on a hunt with the Men of Letters, resulting in some serious consequences.

**March 30th, 2017**  
Sam had finally convinced you and Dean to start working with the Men of Letters-- willingly. You, in turn, had convinced him to sit in the backseat with you while Sam drove and Mick gave directions. You kept Dean from griping the whole way there by cuddling up to him and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. “Just think about it baby, our own room, in an actual hotel, with continental breakfast,” you cooed. “It’ll be like a hunt and a vacation.”  
“Stop tryin’ to sweet talk me, I’m still not happy about this,” he mumbled back before you pulled his lips to yours. Then he was like putty in your hands.   
“Let’s be professional, shall we?” Mick spoke up from the front seat, earning a slap on the arm from Sam.  
“Give them a break. They just spent a decade away from each other,” he muttered.   
You pulled out of your kiss with Dean. “No, it’s fine. I’ll keep it to a minimum back here,” you teased.   
Mick called it a three-star hotel, but it was ten for all you and Dean cared. As soon as the door was closed, you were tearing at each others’ clothes. Dean tossed you back onto the plush king bed once you had rid each other of the offending articles, covering your body with kisses. “Still can’t believe you’re back,” he whispered as he made his way down south, dipping his head between your legs and lapping at your pussy. You gasped blissfully, trying to form a cohesive response, and failing. “All mine.” The vibration he sent through your skin was almost enough to make you come.   
“Dean,” you whined, one hand reaching back to clutch the pillow, the other tangling in his hair. “Loveyousomuch,” you breathed.   
He continued his relentless attack on your folds, making sure his tongue touched every single crevice. Your back arched up off of the bed when you felt the familiar tingle building in your core. “You gonna come for me baby?” he murmured against you.   
You nodded enthusiastically and elicited a breathy moan before the pressure in your core released itself, and your legs were involuntarily trapping Dean in a near chokehold. He patted your thigh, signaling you to part your legs and allow him to crawl back up to you. He planted a wet kiss on your lips before turning you onto your side and sliding into you from behind. “Ohhh, Deeeeeeean…” you gasped as his dick filled you.   
“Gonna have you on every surface in this room…” he snarled into your neck as he began thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace.  
“What’s gotten into you?” you wondered aloud. Ever since you and Dean had started having sex again, it was (naturally) slightly different than what you had been used to, so you tried not to come onto him if he didn’t seem like he was in a good mood. Which meant you hardly ever came onto him, and usually waited for him to initiate things. But _now_ he was talking dirty to you, promising you more of what you hadn’t been taking for yourself.   
“The fact that I get to have you alone in a nice room…” His hand snaked around your waist to rub your already sensitive clit.   
“Fuck, Dean, I’m not gonna last like this,” you hissed, grinding against him for friction.   
“Good, me neither,” he replied before nibbling your ear and quickening the pace. Then you were coming again, this one longer and more intense than the last. Dean flipped you onto your stomach before withdrawing from you, and soon you felt the warmth of his cum on your lower back. You were still shivering when he dismounted the bed to grab some tissue and clean you up. You laid there in total bliss, savoring the feeling of your orgasms, when Dean slapped your ass and bent down to kiss you on the cheek. “Go pee,” he reminded you breathily, tossing the debris in the bin.   
You stretched your body and groaned before getting up to go to the bathroom. “Round two in the shower?” you suggested. 

**May 8th, 2017**  
Once the Men of Letters witnessed what a valuable hunter you were, they were intent on recruiting you. Mick was far more polite about it than Ketch and ‘Lady’ Bevell. More polite in the sense that Mick didn’t kidnap you while you happened to be alone, drag you to their makeshift home base, and start brainwashing you. Unfortunately, Mick was out of the equation now. _“Please just kill me,” you had begged Toni from the chair you were tied down to. “I’d rather die again than kill the people I love.”  
“Don’t worry,” her voice rang. “Soon you’ll no longer remember loving them. Or anyone, for that matter.” _  
Now you were in the bunker, aiming a gun at Dean. Because you felt nothing for him. And even less for Sam. “[Y/N], this isn’t you,” Dean told you. As if he knew you now.   
“Shut up. You don’t know me. You haven’t for over a decade. You hardly ever did,” you replied sourly.   
The brothers surrendered their weapons and put their hands up. “I’m the reason you’re here, baby,” Dean whimpered.   
“Don’t call me baby,” you instinctively responded. “You’re also the reason I died in the first place. But now that I’m my own person you can’t put me in danger any longer.” Then the tables turned yet again. Ketch escaped when Bevell turned on him and agreed to help the brothers tap into your neural network.   
_A twenty-five year old Dean sat with you on the ferris wheel as your car was perched at the top. You were practically in his lap, his lips locked with yours. “You know, we’re supposed to be enjoying the view,” you chastised him.  
Dean’s hand reached to cup your breast. “I can enjoy more than one thing,” he murmured back.   
“[Y/N]!” Some other Dean yelled, and you felt a tug on your hair, noting that your Dean’s other hand was still wrapped around your waist.   
“What?” you asked, unable to remember this part.   
“I said I can enjoy more than one thing,” young Dean told you before capturing your lips again.   
Suddenly you were pulled off of his lap, in a completely different car with another, older Dean. “I said you have to come back to me,” older Dean said, his grip around your arm unforgiving, like his touch was the only thing keeping you there with him.   
“What’s going on?” you asked.   
“Ketch and Bevell kidnapped and brainwashed you. Now they’re using you as their killing machine,” he said quickly. “You have to remember who you are. Who we are.”  
“How?” you asked. His other hand pulled your face to his and locked your lips in a passionate kiss. “Dean?” You recognized the love of your life when you finally separated from each other. _  
You’d do anything for him, you just needed to know what it was. 

**May 18th, 2017**  
Given that you knew what it felt like to have another being inside of you to be responsible for, you understood what Kelly meant when she said Jack was good. Even though you knew Dean wouldn’t. You just had to keep Dean from doing anything stupid— like shooting at the terrified, naked, very much grown boy in the corner. “Dean, stop.” You disarmed him before he could even touch his gun, tucking it into your belt and putting your hands up as you stepped toward Jack. “Hi Jack,” you said softly, hoping to show him he was safe with you.   
“Father?” he replied, looking at the brothers questioningly.   
“We don’t know where your father is,” you told him. “But we’re here to help.” You offered your hand to him. “I’m a friend of your mom’s.” Those seemed to be the magic words to get him to trust you, and he took your hand. “Are you hungry, Jack? Thirsty? Cold?” You tried to ignore the young man’s nakedness. He nodded shyly, and you turned back to Sam and Dean. “Sam, go grab him some clothes from the car,” you instructed, knowing he shared your faith in nurturing Jack away from evil. You reached to grab a blanket out of the crib and drape it over Jack’s shoulders. “A little better?” you asked gently.   
“I remember you…” he said suddenly, throwing you for a loop. “My mother admired you…” You raised a brow, having had no idea Kelly ‘admired’ you. “She said you were strong. And that you believed in me.” Dean was still sulking in the doorway in shock.  
You nodded. “I do believe in you. I believe you don’t want to hurt anything… that you don’t want to be hurt either…” Jack shook his head and Sam came back with a set of clothes he hoped would mostly fit the boy. You took the clothes from Sam and handed them to Jack. “Here, put these on.” You guided him on which limbs went through which holes, and sat down on the floor together. “So, Jack… I’m sure your mother told you about all of the people out there that are afraid of you… I’m not one of them. Neither is Sam or Dean. But we do have a safe place that we can take you. Somewhere no one else can find; somewhere we won’t let anyone hurt you. And if it’s okay with you, we’d like to bring you back there with us.”  
“I need to find my father…” he replied thoughtfully. Before you could repeat what you’d already told him, he added, “Castiel.”  
That grabbed Dean’s attention. “Cas is dead,” Dean spat. “Lucifer iced him before disappearing into apocalypse world before it closed up.”   
“Dean!” you hissed at him. Then you turned back to Jack. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll take care of you, okay? How about that?” Dean scoffed, earning another hiss from you. “You guys take the impala, we’ll follow you in the truck,” you commanded the brothers before turning back to Jack. “Why do you say Castiel is your father?”   
“Because my mother said he would protect me,” the boy answered matter-of-factly.   
You nodded. “And he would have if he had had the chance,” you reassured him. “But now I’m gonna try to protect you, okay? But you’re a lot stronger than me, so we’ll both have to be patient with each other. Deal?” you held out your hand for him once more, and when he took it in his, he showed you the future-- what the world could be like if you played the cards right. You hoped you could. 

**May 25th, 2017**  
Dean locked you out of the room as soon as you all got back to the bunker with Jack. You patted the door. “Really, Dean?” you called from the hall, earning no response. You sighed heavily before retreating back to the library with Sam and Jack. “He’s pissed,” you told Sam. “He won’t even speak to me.”   
Sam came over to wrap you in a one-armed hug, rubbing your arm. “Give him some time,” he told you.   
You pulled away from the younger Winchester. “Whatever. I think we could use some greasy diner food. Jack, would you rather stay here with me or Sam?” you offered him the choice.   
“Well, my mother trusts [Y/N] more… but Sam seems nice,” he replied to no one in particular.   
“Then would you mind if I left you here with Sam while I go out to get us something to eat?” you proposed.   
Jack looked at Sam and smiled one of the cutest, dopiest smiles you’d ever seen, and you wondered how Dean could be so convinced that he was evil. “I think that’ll be fine,” Jack said.   
You used the time running the errand to think about what you’d say to Dean when he let you back in-- if he let you back in. You thought about all the things you could possibly say to convince him that you all were doing the right thing, and all the things he could possibly throw back at you to invalidate your argument. You felt like no matter what you said, he would have a comeback you couldn’t defend. _Maybe I can calm him down with angry sex,_ you thought to yourself. That might’ve worked when he was in his twenties, but doubtful now.   
When you got back to the bunker, you dropped two of the takeout bags on the library table with Sam and Jack, telling them, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.” You made your way to your shared room and turned the knob with ease, surprised he had unlocked the door so quickly. But then you remembered he probably only did it because he smelled food. “I got you a killer burger,” you said as you closed the door, locking it behind you. “And loaded totchos.” You sat on your side of the bed and placed his bag on his lap. “And I’ll get you whatever else you want so that you can stop being mad at me.”   
“I’m not--” he cut himself off, adjusting his tone while he opened the bag. “I’m not mad at you.”  
You sat your own takeout bag on the nightstand and stroked his arm. “Then what, baby?” you used your most innocent voice. He started digging into his burger, avoiding talking about it by inhaling the food. “Are you scared of him? Because you think he’s bound to be evil no matter what we do?” More face stuffing. “Dean, Sam and I aren’t gonna let that happen. We got rid of Lucifer, we beat the Men of Letters, and we got Jack back here safe and sound. Things are on our side. You just need to stop being so paranoid.” When he still didn’t say anything, you dug into your own food while you waited for him to finish his meal.   
You collected the trash and walked it over to the bin before changing into your pajamas and climbing back into bed, deciding to just let him talk to you when he was ready. Eventually he curled up to you and nuzzled your neck. “I’m still afraid of losing you again,” he admitted.   
You knew why he felt that way— you had already had a few too many close calls since you got back. “I get it. But I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. You’re Dean Winchester, bravest man I’ve ever known.” You kissed his hand. “And you need to bring back weekly date nights.”  
“I wouldn’t have had to get rid of them in the first place if you and Sam hadn’t ‘made amends’ with the Brits. You almost killed me.”  
“Don’t remind me, please. I begged them to kill me first.”   
“I’m glad they didn’t, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten you back. But you’re here now and we’re… safe.”   
“We _are_ safe,” you reassured him, rolling over to face him and taking his face in your hands. “I love you. And I’m so sorry I ever made you believe otherwise.”  
He kissed you firmly before telling you, “None of that was your fault, okay?”   
“Doesn’t feel that way…” you mumbled.   
He pulled you in for another deep kiss, hoping to make you forget your woes. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to give you guys a good balance of fluff, smut, and angst. But if you would like more of any one in particular, please let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader call a hunters gathering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL THE FLUFF FOR YOU MY SWEET BABIES (and some smut of course)

**August 19th, 2017**  
Dean had held onto the ring for years. He took it to the jeweler while she was getting her anti-possession tattoo, hoping to have it modified into something nicer. He knew it was stupid to still give it to her, but he had built up too much regret over the years by not making her his before it was too late. The jeweler had remolded the metal to serve as the setting for a small emerald stone, and engraved Dean’s and her initials into the inside of the band. Dean took her out to her favorite part of the nearby river and they sat on the bank together.  
“I like it out here. It’s peaceful,” you told Dean, mesmerized by the water rushing over the rocks.  
“It is, isn’t it?” Dean murmured, fidgeting with the ring in his pocket, wondering what the best way to ask was.  
“And things are pretty quiet on the hunting front, given that Lucifer is gone. At least for the time being. And I don’t think apocalypse-world is going to be very forgiving, even for him,” you said optimistically. You knew he had been depressed about losing Castiel, so you were spending the summer trying to make sure he had nothing to worry about. “Things are going okay, right hun?” You looked to him for reassurance. “All things considered?”  
He turned to you and nodded, smiling nervously. “Yeah, all things considered…” he replied.  
_What’s he got on his mind?_ You wondered, noticing his strange behavior. “You okay, babe? You seem like you’re on edge,” you voiced your concerns.  
He shook his head, his smile relaxing a little. “I’m good. I just… I love you so much…” he breathed before pulling your lips to his.  
“I love you, baby,” you murmured against his lips, still sensing apprehension.  
Dean took a deep breath before saying, “Hey, I gotta ask you something… and I have a feeling you might say no, but just hear me out…” he trailed off.  
You narrowed your eyes at him. “It better not be anything kinky,” you joked.  
“No,” he chuckled, removing his hand from his pocket. “I thought maybe we could officially make you a Winchester,” he said as he humbly held the ring up for you to see.  
_Definitely didn’t see that coming…_ you told yourself in shock when you processed what he was proposing-- that he was proposing. Unable to form words, you simply held out your left hand for him to slide the ring onto your third finger, climbing onto his lap shortly thereafter. “Took ya long enough,” you teased after making out with him for a while.  
He chuckled and tightened his grip on your waist, rubbing you against him. “You implied you didn’t want that kind of stuff,” he said into your lips.  
“I want _you_ ,” you argued, tugging his bottom lip and gripping the collar of his shirt. “I’ve only ever wanted you, Dean…”  
His kiss became rougher, needier, as he tugged at your shirt, eager to feel your skin against his. You practically ripped his own shirt off, making quick work of the v-neck underneath before shoving him back against the ground and pulling your shirt over your head. “So gorgeous,” Dean breathed, looking you over.  
You knelt between his legs and started working on his belt buckle, needing him naked. “Shut up and strip me,” you demanded, pulling his jeans down and off. He did as he was told before pulling you back into his lap and lining himself up with your entrance. You sank onto him, running your fingers through his hair as you took his length. “Nf, Dean!” you moaned, feeling him rub against your sweet spot with the first thrust.  
One of his arms wrapped around your waist to clutch onto your back while he used the other to brace himself against the ground so he could buck up into you. His lips latched around one nipple while his fingers pinched the other, sending sparks throughout your body. You practically buried his head in your breasts when your grip on his short hair tightened, bouncing up and down a little faster. That was when Dean fell back against the grass again, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth forming that oh-so-sexy ‘o’ shape that told you you were doing all the right things. You braced your arms against the ground on either side of his head, gazing at him as you rode him before you leaned down to suck on his neck. Dean’s hands migrated to your ass cheeks and gave them a hard squeeze, somehow managing to thrust himself even deeper, hitting your sweet spot with each one. “Oh, baby,” he whined, indicating he was close.  
You bit down on his shoulder, triggering his orgasm, quickly followed by your own. Dean kept bucking into you as you rode it out, knowing you loved the continued friction, kissing your lips gently afterwards. “So,” you said breathily. “This wedding… local casino, or Vegas-level event?” you teased.  
“Who needs Vegas when I have you?” he replied smugly.  
You leaned back down and laid soft kisses on the skin surrounding his tattoo. “Think of all the casinos we could have sex in…” you murmured. “All of the nice hotel rooms…”  
“I’m listening…” You felt his dick twitch inside of you and carefully slid off of him.  
“Gonna get a sexy little number for you so you can fuck me in my wedding dress…”  
Dean let out a low growl and rolled on top of you so that you were laid back against the grass now. “Honey, I’ll do whatever the hell you want me to,” he said before capturing your lips again.  
You smiled against him. “Skinny dip with me?” you proposed, looking over Dean’s shoulder at the river. You were shocked he didn’t take much convincing before he stood up and jumped in, encouraging you that the water was deep enough where he was. You laughed and paddled over to him, wrapping your legs around his waist to hold yourself up at his level. “I love you,” you murmured as you toyed with his wet hair.  
“I love you,” he replied, pecking you on the lips. “Seriously, though, where do you wanna get hitched?”  
You shrugged. “I don’t know. We could get married right here if you wanted to,” you offered. “My big question is whether or not you’re gonna take me on a honeymoon,” you teased. “I’ve added a few things to my bucket list after much consideration.”  
“Oh yeah?” he asked. “Like what?”  
“Oh, you’ll find out. That’s part of the adventure,” you told him. “But it involves consummating our marriage quite a bit,” you flirted.  
“Is that so?” he flirted back, kissing down the length of your neck.  
“Mhmmm,” you hummed. “Starting with Baby.”

 **September 10th, 2017**  
You were doing some online shopping for a white dress to wear for your ‘wedding’ when you heard footsteps echo down the hallway. Afraid it may be Dean, you slammed the laptop shut and shifted over to a book.  
“What, you and Dean don’t watch porn together?” Sam joked upon seeing your reaction when he entered the room.  
“Ha ha,” you replied sarcastically. “But no, I was looking at dresses and I didn’t want to risk Dean getting a sneak peek.”  
“Ah. Have you guys decided what you’re doing yet?” he asked, sitting across from you at the table.  
You opened the laptop back up, resuming where you left off. “Well, I thought it would be nice to maybe go out to Red Rocks Park in Colorado, but Dean said that if we do that, then we have to honeymoon at The Stanley Hotel, and I’m not sure how enthusiastic I am about that,” you explained as you perused the options on the website. You were looking for something that was easy to ‘elope’ in, something closer to a cocktail dress. But it still had to be white, lacey, and figure-flaunting.  
Sam furrowed his brow. “You hunt monsters for a living, and yet you’re too paranoid to stay at a fictionally haunted hotel?”  
“Exactly, I already have plenty of real life experience behind my belt to produce my own version of ‘The Shining’. I don’t need Stephen King’s help,” you sassed back, a long-sleeved, backless, lace, bodycon mini-dress catching your eye.  
“There’s plenty of stuff to do in Estes Park,” Sam tried to offer.  
“Because you know Dean will be all over wine tasting,” you said sarcastically, turning the laptop to show Sam. “Do you think he’ll like this?” you followed up.  
Sam chuckled. “I’m sure he would be all over it if you were wearing that. And put the emphasis on getting drunk together.”  
You scoffed and examined the size chart before selecting the dress and adding it to your cart, now on the search for some nice lingerie to wear underneath. “Well, and we could always get a fancy suite in one of the newer buildings if he wants to stay on the property that bad,” you suggested. “But you’re right, there are definitely a decent amount of activities…” One of the tabs open on your computer was a travel website for things to do around Estes Park. “I’m just not sure how keen he would be on horseback riding with me,” you added.  
“Doing what now?” Dean’s voice called, resulting in another panicked shutting of the laptop from you. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head at you. “You watchin’ porn without me, babe?” The question was half-teasing, half-serious.  
“Okay, just because that’s what you guys are looking at on your computers in private, doesn’t mean I am, too,” you sassed. “I’m shopping,” you stated. “Just because we’re both technically dead and therefore cannot legitimately legally marry, doesn’t mean I can’t have a nice wedding.”  
Dean put his hands up in a defensive stance before taking the seat beside you. “And did we settle on a date for this ‘nice wedding’?” he asked, draping his arm over your shoulder.  
“I’m gonna go back to teaching Jack,” Sam mentioned before scooting back and walking away.  
You turned to look at Dean. “Well, we haven’t done much because someone can’t decide on hardly anything.”  
“What? It’s not like there’s _that_ much to decide on…”  
“Oh, you don’t think? Okay, what about who all will be invited?” You forced him to think about one of the firsts on your list of things to consider.  
“Sam.”  
“Okay, and?”  
“Well, you’d probably want Jack there, right?” Dean asked you.  
“I certainly do, yes,” you stated matter-of-factly. “And Jody and the girls. Maybe Max and Alicia and all those other hunters we know,” you gave him somewhat of a list. “But if we want it to be an event like that, we’ll probably have to do it before another almost-apocalypse. Given what I know about how many of those there were while I was dead.”  
“Hell, if you really wanna go out to the Rockies, we could just do it this weekend. It’s barely a six hour trip.”  
You pushed your chair back and stood up, wide-eyed. “This weekend? As in Saturday, the sixteenth?” you clarified.  
He raised his brows and chuckled, scooting back slightly to turn in your direction. “Uh huh…” You straddled him in the chair, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him roughly. “I’ll take that as a yes?” he mumbled against your greedy lips.

 **September 16th, 2017**  
Alex put the finishing touches on your makeup while Claire finished styling your hair before they helped you slide into your (overnight-shipped) dress. “You look awesome, girl,” Claire told you upon seeing their handiwork.  
Alex grabbed Claire’s hand and led her to the door. “We’ll see you outside,” Alex called back on her way out of the suite.  
You waited a few minutes and downed the tiny bottle of whiskey from the mini-bar at the hotel you and Dean stayed in last night before going out to the backyard of the Red Rocks Trading Post. Everyone was gathered around cocktail tables, having prepared the event space as more of a social gathering than anything else. But Dean immediately caught your eye.  
He had certainly dressed up for the occasion, donning a burgundy suit with a black button-down, vest, and necktie underneath. You had never seen him look more handsome, and you had to resist the urge to just run over to him and jump into his arms. As soon as he caught your gaze, he set his drink cup down and started making his way towards you, pulling you to him like a magnet. His arms slid around your waist as soon as you were within reach, and he pulled you flush against him. “Yep, I definitely want you all to myself,” he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your neck.  
“Where’d this daring fashion sense come from all of the sudden?” you retorted, noting his bold choice of color for the day.  
“You’d be amazed with the amount of people that wanted to help me pick something. Almost felt like I was the bride,” he muttered, kissing you.  
You giggled. “Let’s go make the toasts. And, ya know, the vows,” you told him, pulling him back towards the cocktail tables.  
Sam clanked his glass for the first toast, gathering everyone’s attention and clearing his throat. “I wanna thank you all for coming, but more importantly Dean and [Y/N] want to thank you all for coming. I think it’s definitely a shock to all of us, but in the very best way. Cheers.” He sat back down and allowed you and Dean to take center.  
“Well, I think Sammy here summed things up pretty well. So I’m just gonna take this time to say that [Y/N] is literally the best woman I’ve ever known. And she may disagree, but I think she’s perfect for me in every way. And I just feel so fucking grateful to have her back in this life with me, which is why I’m lockin’ it down,” he said the last sentence jokingly. “To my soulmate, and the newest Winchester.” Dean raised his cup and pecked you on the lips before taking a swig.  
You chuckled shyly before grabbing a champagne flute from the nearest cocktail table. “I guess I’ll start off with how comforting it is to know that even after all these years without me, Dean somehow manages to keep making me fall in love with him more and more every day. He is and always has been one of the bravest, most selfless people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I’m so proud to call him my husband now,” you toasted.  
Everyone cheered (unceremoniously) and the socializing continued for another couple of hours before you and Dean made off in the impala. “So, where to now Mrs. Winchester?” Dean asked playfully.  
You cozied up to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. You replied suggestively, “The honeymoon… unless you wanted to make a pit stop?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean run into one problem after another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angstyness

**November 12th, 2017**  
After finishing your date night dinner, you and Dean got in the impala to head home, when his phone started ringing from an unknown number. “Hello?” he said gruffly before his eyes widened. “Where are you? … Okay, we’re on the way.”  
“Who was that?” you asked, worried about Jody and the girls.  
“We’ll see when we get there.”  
“Dean, don’t give me that shit. Who are we on the way to?”  
“In theory,” he huffed. “Cas.”  
Your expression changed to one you could only assume mirrored Dean’s moments ago. “How? Lucifer…” you didn’t finish the sentence.  
“That’s why we’re gonna see when we get there.”  
The impala screeched to a halt in front of the phone booth about an hour later, the trench-coated figure with his back to you. Dean jumped out of the car and Castiel turned around. “Hello, Dean.”

**November 27th, 2017**  
**1:15pm**  
You were strolling through town when he knocked into you out of nowhere. The next thing you knew, you were in a deserted wasteland that you could only assume was Apocalypse world. Massive angel blades spiked through the ground, and everything around you was gray. “Hands up!” A gravelly voice behind you commanded. You did as you were told and slowly turned to face the owner of the voice. “[Y/N // L/N]?” he identified you.  
He had a bandana covering his face, so you couldn’t recognize him back, but he seemed familiar. “That’s me. And you are?” you replied cautiously. When the man uncovered his face, you recognized Bobby Singer. “Bobby?”  
He jogged over with open arms and pulled you into a tight embrace. “I thought you were gone,” he murmured.  
You sighed heavily and pulled away. “Bobby, I’m not your [Y/N]. I’m from a different world, someone trapped me here,” you explained. You looked around, knowing what had happened here but wondering exactly how it all went down. “What happened?”  
“Michael and Lucifer happened. Michael took out Lucifer then started on the rest of the world,” he told you.  
“Wait, Dean said yes to Michael here?”  
“Dean?”  
“Dean Winchester… Michael’s vessel…”  
“Never heard of him.”  
That’s when you realized this was a world where Sam and Dean had never been born. You also realized that the person you had collided with right before you appeared here was Lucifer’s old vessel. Which meant he somehow got back to your world and traded places with you. “Where is Michael now?” you asked after taking a moment to process. 

**3:45pm**  
“She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts in over two hours,” Dean told Sam anxiously. “She was just going to the pharmacy, she should’ve been back by now.”  
Sam stood up from his place at the table in the armory with Jack. “Did she take the impala?” Sam asked.  
Dean shook his head. “No, she took your mustang. I think we should go into town, see if we can find it,” he replied.  
“You think it could be the Brits again?”  
“No, I don’t think they’re that stupid…”  
“Uh, guys,” Jack spoke up, turning his laptop so the brothers could see the camera footage he quickly dug up.  
The clip started with you walking down the sidewalk, then after a few seconds, the screen fuzzed out for a moment before resetting itself, showing Lucifer continuing walking in your place with you nowhere in sight. “Is that…?” Sam started.  
“Lucifer,” Dean finished. “But how’d he get back from Apocalypse World?”  
“And what happened to [Y/N]?” Sam added.  
“What’s your best guess?” Dean asked rhetorically. He knew they had to have traded places, that she had to have been sucked into the other world. “We need to get her back,” Dean determined, looking over to Jack expectantly.

**January 7th, 2018**  
If the days on this world were the same length as your days back home, you had been stranded here for over a month now, taking shelter with Bobby in a refugee camp. But everything changed when you found Sam lying on the ground, unconscious, during a perimeter check. If Dean Winchester didn’t exist here, surely Sam didn’t either. You slung your rifle over your back and checked for a pulse, gently tapping him on the cheek when you found it. “Sam?” you called.  
He stirred awake, groggily sitting up. “[Y/N]?” he replied, dazed. “Where’s Jack and Dean?”  
You narrowed your eyes. “I haven’t seen them anywhere…” you told him. “Are they supposed to be with you?” you asked, even though you knew that he would reply in the affirmative. You stood up and held out your arm to help him up. “Come on, we need to move.”  
He nodded and followed you as you finished your perimeter check, returning to the refugee camp with you. He told you everything he could on the way back. “After you went missing, Jack found these dreamwalkers he thought could help open the portal back up. So Dean and I went with him, thinking we could just run in, grab you, then get back out. But I guess something went wrong.”  
“Went wrong how?” you asked.  
“I think I got zapped here alone. Which means Jack and Dean are probably in the other world Kaia saw,” he speculated.  
“Kaia?”  
“She’s the dreamwalker we used. But there was another world she was visualizing, something she called the Bad Place. I think that’s where Jack and Dean may have ended up,” he clarified.  
“Well, wherever this Bad Place is, I’m not sure if it can get much worse than here. But from what you’re telling me… unless Dean and Jack can figure out how to get back on their own… we’re still stuck here, aren’t we?”  
“Well, if we’re lucky the other portal will be open for a couple of days, and Dean and Jack can get out and come get us,” Sam mentioned.  
“Yeah. _If_ the portal is still open, _if_ they get back to our Earth, _if_ they can make it back here, and _if_ we can all make it back to our world,” you reminded him. “Sam, I’ve already been here for over a month.”  
“Dean’s not just going to leave us here.”  
“And you think he’s gonna have much luck cooperating with Jack long enough to find us?” you retorted.  
Sam sighed. “He has to.”

**January 18th, 2018**  
It hadn’t taken long for Jody and the girls to find the impala, find the portal, find the boys, and bring them back. But that was only the first part. The next part was finding a spell that could open the rift without Kaia. That took slightly longer. Dean insisted on going in alone, but he was glad not to risk anyone else when he returned to the warzone. He had to fight through dozens of angels before he found another human, before he found you.  
You were curled up at the base of a tree, hiding from the attack in the hollowed out trunk. “[Y/N]?” Dean’s voice called. Afraid of more of Michael’s mind games, you retreated further into your hiding spot. That’s when Dean saw the trail of blood leading to where you were. He dropped to his knees by the opening of the tree and looked into the shadows. “Honey, it’s me. Let me help,” he said softly.  
When you finally made out Dean’s face, you started scooting towards him, clutching at the bloody wound in your ribcage. “Dean,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible.  
He pulled you into his arms and moved you so that he could examine your wound. You’d taken a pretty nasty hit from an angel blade, and it was honestly a miracle you were even still alive now. “Honey, what happened?” he asked as he removed his layers to stop the bleeding with.  
You cringed as he tightened the fabric of his flannel around your ribs. “Michael,” you choked out. “Where’s the portal? You can’t let him find it!” you gasped, spitting some blood out.  
“Shhh, okay, okay, we won’t,” he cooed. “What about Sam, where is he?”  
You took a deep breath and shook your head. “I don’t know.” You hated telling him that you had lost his brother. You had been here for so long already, Sam had only just gotten here, you were supposed to keep the two of you alive and together until Dean or Jack arrived. You failed. “I’m sorry, baby,” you sobbed softly.  
“No, honey, don’t be sorry. Imma take you home, make sure you’re safe, then come back for Sammy. Okay?” he slurred. You barely brought yourself to nod before you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. “Shit,” he hissed, gathering you in his arms.  
\--  
You woke up in your and Dean’s room back at the bunker, alone in the bed. A quick glance at the bedside clock showed 11:23, although you couldn’t be sure if it was am or pm. You went to reach for your wound, but found nothing there. Just the distant memory of a nonexistent pain. You turned the lamp on and slowly got up, noting that Dean had put you in his robe. You left the bedroom and began wandering. “Dean?” you called.  
“[Y/N],” Castiel’s gravelly voice emerged from behind you, startling you.  
“Jesus, Cas, you can’t sneak up on me like that,” you gasped, clutching your hand over your racing heart.  
“My apologies. Dean and Jack are still searching for Sam. They brought you here a few hours ago and I healed you.”  
“A few hours ago? And they’re not back yet?” you panicked.  
“There’s still another hour left,” he tried to assure you, but it didn’t help. You had spent nearly two months there and you barely knew your way around. Dean only had hours.  
You stared at the rift down to the last possible second, and right as it was closing, Dean emerged-- alone. You shoved the bag off of his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his hair. “I couldn’t find him…” he said weakly.  
“It’s okay, we’ll go back in a few days and try again. I showed him an emergency checkpoint, he has to make it there by then,” you reassured him.  
“And if he’s not?” he mumbled into your shoulder.  
You shook your head. “He will be. He has to be.”

**February 8th, 2018**  
You and Dean were doing your best to reassemble the ingredients for the spell to open another rift to get back into apocalypse world since your second attempt hadn’t been successful either. Meanwhile, Castiel and Jack were chasing a lead on a ‘much-weakened’ Lucifer. “I think we’ve done all we can for today,” you told Dean, shutting the book in front of you. “You need some sleep.”  
He sneered and scooted his chair back. “So do you.” He stood up and walked around to your side of the table, holding his hand out. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”  
You took his hand and followed him back to your bedroom, stripping down to your underwear and climbing into bed. After turning the lights off, you and Dean cuddled up to each other, face to face. “We’ll bring Sam back. I know we will,” you murmured.  
“It’s so hard to believe I’ll ever get to stop worrying about this stuff. Even if we do get Sam back, we’ll still have Lucifer and other Michael to deal with,” he replied.  
“I know. We’ve already talked about it a hundred times. It won’t change anything. But I’m gonna be here, by your side, for all of it. I promise. And as long as we’re together, I know we’ll win,” you promised, kissing him. His hands slid to your hips as he deepened your kiss, digging his nails into you and biting your lower lip. You moaned into his mouth at the pleasure-pain, one hand tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck while the other snaked beneath his boxers, taking his half-hard dick in your hand. He emitted a low growl when you started stroking him, quickly perking up to full size. “What do you want, baby?” you breathed, wanting to do whatever he wanted to in order to get his mind off of things.  
“I don’t care, just make me forget,” he whispered back breathily before kissing you again. 

**April 12th, 2018**  
“You don’t think I haven’t stopped blaming myself already?!” you shouted at Dean. “I know he was my responsibility! I know it’s my fault we don’t have him back yet! You don’t have to keep reminding me every time we go in and come back without him!” Things between you and Dean had been tense the last few weeks without Sam. On the bright side, Jack was learning how to control his rift-opening capabilities with the help of you and Castiel. “I’m done, I’m done arguing with you about this,” you muttered, storming away.  
“I don’t understand, Dean,” Jack spoke up once you left. “I thought you loved her?”  
That’s when Ketch showed up with a bloodied and beaten Lucifer. “I come in peace, boys. I hear you need some assistance finding Samuel?”

**April 26th, 2018**  
After Ketch invited himself (and Lucifer) into the bunker, you decided to bunk down at a motel on your own. You figured with Jack, Cas, Ketch, and Lucifer, Dean could get Sam back just fine without you-- since apparently all you did was get in the way-- and they did. You considered not picking up the phone when Dean finally did call. You wanted to hear his voice, but not if it meant another argument. You answered anyway. “What?” you croaked.  
“Baby, come back home,” he pleaded.  
“Did you find him?” you replied. You weren’t going back unless Sam was there safe.  
“Yeah. Other Michael had him. But uh… Well, just come home, hun.”  
“Dean… I don’t know if I’m ready just yet. This is just… too much. I know you’ve been dealing with it for a while now, but… I want to go back to hunting the way I was before. Standard monsters…” you admitted.  
He was silent for a moment. “How about I come meet you and we’ll talk about this?”  
You sighed. “That’s fine. I’ll text you the address.”  
You were sitting on the edge of the bed, having left the door cracked for Dean. He only took a few steps inside when he stopped. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t bear to see whatever facial expression he wore. “I know that ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough,” he told you.  
You shook your head. “This is just so much harder than the kind of hunting I’m used to. I had plenty of apocalypse world, and I’m just sick of it. I started hunting because I wanted to save people… but I don’t feel like I’m saving anyone anymore…” you admitted.


	8. Chapter 8

**April 26th, 2018**  
Dean was able to convince you to come back to the bunker, because despite the houseguests you despised, you hated the idea of being on your own even more. What else could you do?  
As soon as you caught sight of Sam, safe and sound, you ran over to him and threw your arms around his large frame, hugging him like he’d float away if you let go. “I’m so sorry you got stuck there trying to save my ass,” you mumbled. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you from Michael.”   
Sam sneered and gently returned your embrace. “It’s okay, sis,” he replied endearingly.   
“No it’s not,” you argued. “I was supposed to keep you safe.”  
“I’m safe now,” he reassured you, taking a step back to look into your eyes. He saw the same expression he saw in Dean when he went missing, which validated how much you belonged in this family. You nodded before pecking him on the cheek and heading to the armory.  
Ketch approached you in the armory with a guilty expression you’d never seen on him before. “[Y/N]? Pardon my interruption, but I think I owe you… a litany of apologies,” he began.   
“If you’re apologizing for brainwashing me and trying to make me kill my husband, then please, by all means,” you invited.   
“Those items are on the list, yes… And I’m sorry for dropping in and causing you so much distress that you felt you had to leave,” he added, much to your surprise.   
You furrowed your brow. “What are you talking about? I didn’t leave because of you… I left because I needed a break from Dean,” you explained.   
Now it was his turn to look confused. “Well, yes, I’m sure he got quite angry when you told him about… us.”  
“Us?” you asked, perplexed. “What do you mean, ‘us’?”  
“Oh, dear. I see now that you don’t remember…”   
_Remember? What is there to remember?_ You didn’t know you’d lost any memories. “What am I supposed to remember, exactly?” you asked suspiciously, standing up.   
“Perhaps it’s best if you didn’t,” he decided.   
His words brought you the opposite of comfort, and you drew your gun from your waistband. “Tell me,” you demanded.   
He raised his arms. “You really don’t remember, do you?”   
You started wracking your brain, dredging up the painful memories of Ketch and Bevell stripping you of your identity. One of the first things they had done was torture you the same way they had tortured Sam— with a ‘pleasant’ spell. A spell that made you think you were trapped in a dream with Ketch, willingly feeding him the information he desired. “That was a trick,” you whispered.   
Ketch sighed. “Unfortunately, that time it wasn’t,” he revealed. Pulling the trigger was just a reflex for you once you figured it all out.   
Everyone was running in the direction of the gunshot, fearing Lucifer had escaped. Dean was the first to see you standing over Ketch with a bullet wound in his shoulder. “What the hell?” Dean growled, snatching the gun from your hands and dragging you out of the armory while the others tended to Ketch. You were still processing when he shook you by the shoulders. “[Y/N]!” he shouted, trying to catch your attention. “What did he do to you?” He knew you had to have had a reason to do what you did, he just didn’t know if it was good enough.   
“You don’t wanna know,” you replied, looking down. He placed his hand under your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him, and you couldn’t lie to him. “I thought it was just a spell… I thought it was just the same tricks Bevell used on Sam… But it wasn’t… It was me…” You were coming to terms with the reality. “I…” You didn’t want to say the words aloud, because as soon as you did it would be all too real. “I slept with him…”  
Dean backed away from you like you suddenly grew fangs. “Tell me this is a sick joke,” he begged.   
You shook your head, tears falling from your eyes. “I _begged_ them to kill me, Dean,” you tried to make him understand. “It’s like they sucked out my soul… The person they turned me into, that’s not the real me! I never would’ve done that to you, Dean! I love you!” you cried desperately, terrified he wouldn’t believe you.   
Dean scoffed and shook his head. “You know, I thought it was sketchy that he was being so nice to us,” he muttered. “Now I know why… because he felt guilty.”   
“Dean… please… you have to believe me… I didn’t know…” You were convinced he thought this was something you had purposely kept from him, that the next words out of his mouth would be ‘get out’.  
But instead he made a snide comment. “You shoulda aimed for his head.”  
It didn’t feel real when he scooped you back into his arms and held you tight. “I’m sorry,” you balled, unable to move past your forgotten transgressions. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”   
He shushed you and stroked your hair. “Stop blaming yourself. This all happened because of me.”  
You shook your head. “I should never have been brought back.”  
Dean held your face in his hands and looked you in the eye. “Don’t you ever say that again,” he demanded before kissing you.

**May 6th, 2018**  
You and Dean were sitting on the hood of the impala, parked by the river where Dean had given you the ring. “So do you think Michael killed our Lucifer yet?” you broke the silence.   
“If we’re lucky. But when do we ever get lucky?” he remarked. When he turned his head to look at you, he noticed that you were still bearing an expression of guilt, of tension. “Honey, it’s gonna be okay,” he assured you. “We’re okay, right?”   
You shook your head. “I don’t know. Are we okay?” you replied honestly. Once again, he had hardly touched you since you got back over a week ago.   
“Only if you are.”  
“Was I worth it?” you blurted.   
“What?”  
“Everything you went through to bring me back… Was I worth it?”   
He sneered. “You know what I’m gonna say,” he told you.   
“I know, but I want to hear you say it…” you admitted. You needed all the reassurance that you could get that he still loved you, that he would still fight for you.   
Dean threw his arms over your head and pulled you back against his chest. “You’re worth everything,” he murmured. “I’m gonna take you on date night tonight; I think it’ll be good for us.” He kissed the top of your head.   
“We haven’t had date night in almost six months,” you pointed out.  
“All the more reason,” he argued.   
What you were truly afraid of was that he would realize he didn’t love you anymore. You’d been back for a year and a half, but it felt like far more given everything you all were dealing with. And you’d gotten rid of the child you could’ve had together, you’d spent weeks without him while he was in prison, you’d been brainwashed and seduced by Ketch, you’d spent weeks in an apocalyptic world, and you’d spent weeks blaming yourself for leaving Sam behind to be tortured by Michael. You felt like a completely different person, a person Dean couldn’t possibly be in love with. “It’s never going to be like it was before…” you said sadly.   
“Of course it isn’t. I mean before, we didn’t have all this bullshit to deal with. Before, it was just you and me, saving people, hunting things. Now it’s so much more complex than that. But what I know for sure, is that ever since you’ve been back I’ve felt whole,” he comforted you.   
And you understood what he was saying. Because all that time that you had been away from him, something had been missing. “Dean, I love you.”   
“You sound like you’re about to leave me again.”  
You shook your head and took his face in your hands. “Never. As long as I’m alive,” you replied before kissing him softly. “Come on, let’s go get ready for date night.”

**May 17th, 2018**  
You and the guys had adopted a buddy system since the last incident, which is why you and the brothers found yourselves at the gas station by the bunker together when the deafening ringing began. It got louder, higher, until you were all forced to run back out to the impala. Dean huddled over you as the windows of the building shattered around you and flew everywhere. “What is that?!” Dean shouted right in your ears, and you could still barely make out what he said.   
“It has to be Michael!” you yelled back as the ringing died down and footsteps crunched outside. Dean jumped up and opened the trunk, turning the holy oil into a molotov cocktail to buy you time to escape from Michael.   
But he still followed you back to the bunker, and Jack was nowhere to be found until he heard Sam’s prayer. Jack was able to wreck Michael’s vessel before Lucifer stole his grace. And that’s what forced Dean to offer what he did when Lucifer flew off with Jack and Sam. “What if you had your sword?”  
“Dean, no!” Castiel protested.   
“Dean, what are you talking about?” you yelled.   
“This is a one-time deal. I’m the driver, you’re the engine,” Dean stated, as if it would make a difference. Michael nodded, and then Dean said the thing you dreaded most, “Then yes.”  
“Dean, no!” you screamed, but it was too late. Michael’s grace flowed into Dean and you saw him begin to glow, spreading a silhouette of a magnificent set of wings.   
When the grace settled down, Dean stepped over to you and took your face in his hands. “I don’t want you anywhere near this. I’m gonna go kill Lucifer, and get Jack and Sam back,” he told you, as if it were a sure thing. But you were too afraid of Michael to tell him how you truly felt about the whole idea, so you just nodded. He stepped back, then you heard the flap of his wings and he was gone.  
Jack and Sam came back, but Dean didn’t. “Where’s Dean?” You held Sam by the collar. His face said it all. Michael had taken Dean and was now in the wind.   
Sam caught you as your knees buckled and cradled you in his grasp. “We’ll find him,” he assured you. If only you believed him. 

**June 7th, 2018**  
 **3:13am**  
Sam had to grab hold of your flailing wrists to wake you up from your nightmare. “[Y/N]! It’s okay, you’re okay.”  
You gasped for air. You’d lost count of how many nights the flashbacks plagued you since you had to sleep alone again. “Sam?”  
He sat on the edge of the bed by your knees, releasing you once you were still. “I’m here, sis. It’s okay.”  
“It’s not okay,” you griped. “It’s been three weeks, and Michael-Dean is nowhere to be found. Jack is struggling so much with being human. What are we supposed to do? We can’t just keep travelling city to city searching. This is hopeless. We’re never getting him back.”  
“We will. I know we will. It’s just a matter of time. Ketch is out there 24/7 trying to find him. He has to make some noise at some point, and when he does we’ll be right there.”  
You sighed and shook your head. “Can you go get Cas so he can put me back to sleep?” you asked politely. 

**September 16th, 2018**  
“What the fuck were those things?” you gasped, out of breath from beheading the invincible-vampire-werewolf hybrids.   
Sam keeled over. “I have no idea,” he choked.   
“Whatever they were, I guarantee Michael sent them,” you said when you could finally catch your breath.   
“Yeah,” Sam breathed back.   
Then the double doors opened, and Michael-Dean trudged through the door. He fell against a column and pulled his cap off before sliding to his knees. “Sammy,” he groaned.   
You and Sam sprinted over to him. “Is that really you?” Sam asked, taking Dean’s face in his hands.   
“Yeah, it’s me,” he grunted.   
“How’d you get Michael out?” Sam asked, releasing his brother from his grip.  
Dean shook his head. “I didn’t. He just left,” he whimpered.   
You and Sam looked at each other. “What? Why?” you chimed.   
Dean shook his head again. “I don’t know.”  
—  
Dean pigged out on pizza and beer once you guys got back to the bunker. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?” Sam asked suspiciously.   
“I said I’m fine Sammy, now let me eat my pie,” Dean remarked.   
You looked over at Sam and just slightly cocked your head for a moment, signaling to him that you’d handle it. When Sam retired to his room, you turned to Dean. “Hey, um, are you tired?” you asked nervously, not wanting to irritate him as Sam clearly had. Dean shoved the last of the slice into his mouth before nodding and standing up, giving you a thumbs up. You rolled your eyes and walked back to the room with him, curling your fingers around his vest once the door was closed. “I can’t believe you’re back,” you whispered, gazing into his emerald pools.   
He stepped forward, pressing your body against the door with his own. “I am. I promise,” he murmured. “So, if the kitchen calendar is up to date, which I assume it is with you and Sam around, then today is a pretty special day.” He planted soft kisses across your jaw, and you forgot how to think straight.   
“Hm?” you hummed, leaning your hips forward into his.   
“Happy wedding anniversary, honey…” He pulled your face to his and kissed you tenderly, wanting you to feel the love behind it.   
“Dean,” you whispered. “You were gone for four months…”   
“I’m sorry,” he told you, stealing another kiss.   
“I missed you so much… this has been the worst first year of marriage in the history of marriages…” you whined. Two months you had spent in Apocalypse World, three months you both had spent arguing, and four months Dean had spent as a meatsuit. “We’re doomed.”  
Dean chuckled. “We are not doomed.” He kissed you again, sliding his hands down your arms to take your hands. “We’re ride or die. And that’s exactly what a husband and wife should be,” he comforted you as he pulled you back towards the bed, sitting down once his legs touched the frame.   
You stood between his knees and draped your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead against his. “I had so many nightmares…”   
“I’ll make them go away now,” he murmured.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will deals with the repercussions of Dean saying yes to Michael.

**September 16th, 2018**  
You noticed the scar as soon as you slid Dean’s shirt off. It looked like his arm had been stabbed by a giant meat fork. “Baby, what’s this?” you asked him, lightly tracing over it.  
He looked down, confused. “I don’t know…”  
But you knew that whatever it was, it had probably been the reason Michael left. “Baby, I need you to try to remember for me…” You sat on the bed beside him, stroking his hair.  
He shook his head. “I can’t… It’s like I was… I was drowning in my own body…” You’d never seen so much fear in his eyes.  
“It’s okay, honey, you’re not anymore. We’re gonna figure this out,” you reassured him. 

**November 29th, 2018**  
Sam and Dean were on a hunt when Jack’s cough started, and they hadn’t gotten back yet when Jack collapsed in front of you. “Jack!” you exclaimed, dropping onto the floor beside him. “Jack?” You cradled his head in your hands when you noticed his bloodstained lips and shirt. His eyes fluttered shut and you looked around desperately even though you knew you were alone. “Cas!” you screamed, hoping your voice would be loud enough for him to hear.  
There was nothing Castiel could do, nothing the doctors could do, nothing Rowena could do, and nothing you could do to save Jack from dying. But one thing you could do was be there for him. So you and Dean took him out in the impala and let him drive until he couldn’t stop smiling. You knew it was selfish, but he had felt like a son to you. That’s why you bawled your eyes out when Sam told you, “He’s gone.”  
The four of you gathered at the table in the kitchen to drink your sorrows away, remembering what a good kid Jack was, doing your best to honor his memory. But when Sam and Cas tapped out and went to bed for the night, you still felt like you’d lost a child. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” Dean muttered.  
“Nothing ever ends how it’s supposed to for us,” you remarked.  
“Yeah…”  
“I don’t know what to do anymore… If Michael is still out there… How can we possibly stop him without Jack and without the spear?”  
Dean shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe we don’t. Maybe this is the last apocalypse,” he replied.  
“Jack would want us to keep fighting,” you argued.  
“With what?” he snapped. “How are we supposed to fight if we don’t even know where Michael is or how to kill him?!”  
“Baby, calm down,” you told him in a low voice. “You and me, remember? We can still save people and hunt things. But right now I think it’s time for us to get some sleep.” Dean downed the last of the liquor in his glass before crashing his lips against yours, whiskey coating his breath. You forced yourself to pull away from him. “Dean, you can’t just shove this down,” you whispered.  
He shook his head. “I’m not trying to… I just… I wish I could have given him more normal days. Like earlier today.”  
“You made him happy while you could, and that’s what matters,” you reassured him.  
Dean gazed into your eyes sadly. “You would’ve been such a great mom,” he mused.  
You shook your head. “I don’t know about that…”  
“I do. In my dream world… we had him. We had Nate. He was so beautiful, [Y/N]. And we were so happy. And we still hunted,” he revealed.  
You wondered why he was telling you all this. “Is that what you want, Dean?” you questioned.  
“I don’t know what I want, [Y/N].” He said the words you had said to him all those years ago right before you left him.  
“Please don’t send me away,” you replied reflexively.  
He wrapped you in his arms. “Never.” The two of you stood up and retreated to your bedroom. When he climbed into bed with you, he said one of the last things you ever thought you’d hear from him. “I thought we could retire… That as long as we had Jack, the world could be safe… I couldn’t have been more wrong.”  
Then you said one of the last things you ever expected yourself to say. “I was kind of starting to like the idea of retiring…”  
“Maybe someday we can,” he offered.  
“But not anytime soon…” you responded honestly.  
Dean pulled you into him and wrapped you in his embrace. “I’m just thankful for the extra time I get to have with you. And thankful I got to make you mine.”  
You nestled your head in his shoulder. “I was always yours,” you told him. “And I’m just thankful that the man you are now is a man who can still love me the way you do.”  
“I never stopped loving you. I think that’s why I tried to have a normal life when Sam went to the cage. And all it did was put more people in harm’s way.”  
“But you saved them. Just because things didn’t turn out perfect doesn’t mean they didn’t turn out okay,” you reminded him.  
“Still…”  
“You always find a way to save people. Give it some time. I’m sure we’ll find the spear.”

 **December 21st, 2018**  
And you had not only found the spear, but revived Jack, and cornered Michael. Until the woman he was using as his vessel collapsed, and Dean stepped forward and snapped the spear in two. “Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked.  
“That’s not Dean,” you said. You knew how Michael worked— you knew he never would have ‘just left’ his perfect vessel. Not without leaving himself a way back in.  
“Bingo,” Michael rang. “And now…” Suddenly he was holding you up by the throat.  
You grasped onto his wrists and swung your legs aimlessly. “Dean,” you choked, hoping you could awaken him long enough to take back control.  
“Dean’s not able to get to the phone right now,” Michael replied, digging his nails into your neck.  
“Let her go!” Sam shouted from across the room.  
Michael-Dean chuckled. “I don’t think I will, actually. She’ll be very helpful in keeping Dean quiet.” He twirled you around and used you as a human shield. “Ah ah ah,” he sang when Jack reached for the angel blade. With a flap of his wings, you were elsewhere. All you knew was that it was a luxurious hotel suite, probably a villa. Michael-Dean tossed you onto the floor and began to undress. “Why does he _insist_ on dressing like a lumberjack,” Michael muttered.  
You scrambled to your feet, your body shaking. “Why did you bring me here?” you asked.  
He sneered. “Why did I bring you here?” he repeated, disappearing into a large closet. “Isn’t it obvious? No, probably not to your incompetent little human mind. I told you, Dean was fighting me too much. As long as you’re here, he won’t be fighting me anymore.”  
“You’re right,” you scoffed. “Because he will _overtake_ you.” Michael snickered, like he knew something you didn’t. “What?” you spat.  
He reemerged in the same vintage ensemble Dean had been wearing when he returned. “If only you knew everything Dean truly thought about, like I do,” he stated, circling around you. “Did you know… That he has never understood why Amara brought _you_ back? He just can’t wrap his head around it-- he thinks it would’ve made more sense for her to give him Mary as a gift.”  
But you had been to Apocalypse World, you had lived there, and so had Sam. You both knew Michael’s games. “You’re lying.”  
He shook his head. “I’m really not.”  
“Just kill me then, if I’m not special to him at all,” you hissed.  
Michael stepped closer to you, tilting your chin up gently before gripping your jaw tightly. “Well, that would be something wouldn’t it? For your second death to literally be on his hands…” he murmured. _Angels are hands down worse than demons. Azazel who?_ “But no, I don’t believe that’s the smart thing to do… Perhaps I’ll give Jack a little cousin.” _No!_ Your eyes widened and you desperately tried to shake your head, groaning in protest. “You are quite the pretty little thing…” His eyes scanned over your body. “I can see why he enjoys you.” Michael-Dean finally released you from his grip. “You’re welcome to sleep in the bed. I don’t sleep at all,” he told you as he strutted away.  
Rage tore through you, and you grabbed a lamp from the accent table and threw it in his direction, screaming out. “Let me talk to my husband!” you growled.  
Michael turned around, seemingly entertained. “Oh, yes, he is your husband isn’t he? Or that’s what you like to call each other. Well, then, if you insist.”  
Dean’s eyes softened, his posture relaxing before he jogged over to you, taking your face in his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I can’t get him out…”  
“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “We’ll find another way.”  
“Don’t listen to anything he tells you, okay? H--” Dean grunted, wincing as Michael reclaimed his dominance. “That’s enough for now. Like I said, you should get some sleep,” Michael told you. 

**January 24th, 2019**  
Being Michael-Dean’s hostage was torture. He looked like Dean, but he wasn’t. He didn’t even sound like Dean, which somehow hurt even more. You had no way to reach out to Sam, and no hope of Cas coming to save you without alerting the archangel. The only thing that you were even remotely thankful for were the dreams he allowed you to have. The pleasant ones with Dean that he had replaced your nightmares with.  
_Dean was gazing into your eyes, his bed head making him look as young as he was when you died. “What?” you giggled.  
“I wanna have a kid with you,” he blurted.  
You narrowed your eyes. “What makes you so confident all of the sudden?” you asked.  
He shrugged. “I just think it was meant to be.”  
“But what about hunting? What if one of us dies? What if both of us die?” you bombarded him with questions.  
“Think about how many parents Jack has. Our kid will be the same,” he reassured you.  
“I don’t know, Dean… This is never what I imagined…” you replied.  
“Well, of course it isn’t,” he chuckled. “Who could possibly have imagined any of this?”_  
The blaring buzzing of an alarm clock woke you from your blissful slumber. “Michael!” you groaned angrily.  
The double doors to the bedroom opened. “Oh, I’m sorry, you turned that off, didn’t you?” Michael asked snidely. “But I’m sure you know what today is.”  
Oh, you knew. _Dean’s 40th birthday._ “The day you’re finally gonna kill me?” you snarked, sitting up.  
Michael sauntered towards the bed, gripping the baseboard. “I’ve done you some favors, have I not?” You couldn’t deny it. “Then why don’t you do me a favor in exchange?”  
“What could you possibly want from me?” you questioned.  
“Information,” he stated.  
“You won’t get anything out of me that isn’t already in Dean’s head,” you replied.  
“I beg to differ. You two have spent quite a bit of time apart from each other. Plus, you had a life before you met Dean, didn’t you? Loving parents, a good home? Certainly nothing Dean ever had. And yet you ended up as a hunter,” Michael goaded you.  
“Why are you doing this?” you asked.  
Michael chuckled. “Because I like watching you squirm. That, in tandem with the fact that Dean is locked away peacefully despite it.”  
“I know you’re just trying to piss me off.”  
He winked at you and grinned. “Is it working?”  
_That wasn’t a Dean wink, that was a Michael wink,_ you reminded yourself to quiet the arousal between your thighs. “Go to Hell,” you spat.  
He snickered darkly before retreating. “I don’t think you’ll take very long to give in at all.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader takes a calculated risk to get Michael out of Dean. Dean has a crazy idea of his own.

**March 1st, 2019**  
Michael was acting like Dean around you to taunt you, just constantly dangling the hope of getting Dean back right in front of you. You knew all too well that he had explored each and every one of Dean’s memories, and he always used it against you. “How is he letting you do this? He has to still be fighting back like this,” you said to Michael when he cheerfully greeted you in the morning.  
“Oh, you see, I have him locked away in happy memories. It’s quite instinctive with you around. I can see why you were matched in this world,” he quipped.  
“Can I please just get a few minutes with Dean?” you begged. “No tricks. I won’t try to give him a way out.”  
He squinted at you. “I can sense that you’re telling the truth, but my question is why?”  
You shrugged. “If the outcome is the same either way, at least I get a few minutes with him,” you confessed.  
Michael seemed impressed with your answer. “You’re not like many other humans,” he observed.  
“No, I’m not. So do we have a deal?” you replied.  
He snickered darkly. “I don’t think so.”  
You sighed, standing up and walking towards him. “Then I guess I gotta do things my way,” you muttered under your breath before throwing a right hook to his jaw. “Sorry, baby,” you said as if Dean could hear you.  
Michael swiped his finger across the corner of Dean’s lips, finding blood. “Aw, that’s cute,” he cooed before flicking his wrist and sending you flying across the room.  
You knew that Sam, Jack, and Cas had to be looking for you. It had been almost three months, they had to be getting close. There was no way Michael would be releasing you from his clutches anytime soon; even if you talked to Dean, Michael would make sure you never saw each other again. You did the math in your head-- all you had to do was get Michael out of Dean, then Dean could find the others and figure out a way to save you all. It seemed like a risk, but given the calculations it would be worth it. “Is he fighting back now?” you remarked. Michael’s face filled with panic. He was back in the same predicament he had found himself in before-- he was in a hostile environment. “Let’s make a deal,” you proposed. “Leave Dean. Use me. I won’t resist. You can lock me away in whatever kind of memories you want.”  
“Then I’d have the issue of Dean tracking me down for you,” he countered.  
“They’re going to track you down no matter what. You’ll be in my head. You’ll know everything I’ve seen. You could just pretend to be me.” You knew what you were suggesting. But your only other option was to let Dean keep drowning in his own body while Michael destroyed the world, and you couldn’t let that happen. Sam and Dean needed to be together so that they could stop it. Even if it meant you were out of the picture.  
Michael seemed intrigued by the idea. Almost like it was a game to him. “Now that is an interesting deal. You do have a strong vessel…”  
“Then yes.”

 **March 7th, 2019**  
You woke up on a hardwood floor, a pillow propping your head up. You groaned, not opening your eyes at first. “Hey, sweetheart,” Dean’s voice cooed.  
_Hey, sweetheart,_ your own voice echoed in your head. But it hadn’t been you. You usually opted to call Dean ‘baby’ or ‘honey’. Your vision was still cloudy when you opened your eyes, finding yourself in the library of the bunker. “Dean?” you croaked. You said Dean, but all you could picture was Michael-- drowning you.  
He nodded and cupped your face in his hands. “It’s me, honey, Michael’s gone. For good. Promise,” he replied.  
But then you remembered that you had let Michael pretend to be you to get back inside the bunker, and you were suspicious that he had decided to keep the strategy. “No,” you gasped, trying to sit up.  
Dean pushed you back down. “Take it easy,” he commanded. “Jack killed Michael.”  
_Jack killed Michael?_ That was impossible. Jack was human, barely even alive. “H-how?” you stuttered.  
Dean shook his head. “I’ll explain everything later.” He scooped you into his arms and carried you through the bunker.  
“What happened?” you asked, unable to remember much past Michael possessing you.  
“You did what I did. You let Michael in hoping that you could save more people. And you did.”  
You weren’t quite sure what he was saying, but you were just so damn happy to be back in his arms without an apocalypse to worry about. “Sure,” you mumbled, drooping your head into the crook of his neck. “Why am I so tired?” you wondered.  
“Your body hasn’t slept in a few days. You just need some rest,” he told you, kneeling down to place you in bed before slipping his boots off and sliding in next to you. “Everything’s okay now,” you heard him whisper before you drifted off.  
_“He has never understood why Amara brought you back… He thinks it would’ve made more sense to give him Mary as a gift…” Michael-Dean’s voice rang in the background of your supposedly happy dreams. “He doesn’t think of brainwashing as an excuse for sleeping with one of his greatest rivals, you know.”_  
“It wasn’t my fault!” you screamed yourself awake, jolting upright in the bed.  
Dean was quick to soothe you, rubbing your back. “What wasn’t, sweetheart?” he asked gently.  
You shook your head, not wanting to remind him. “Nothing,” you muttered.  
He sighed. “Was he giving you a hard time about Ketch?” It was like he read your mind, making you even more suspicious that it wasn’t really him, that it was Michael pretending to be him. He could see the panic on your face. “When Jack realized that it wasn’t really you… Michael had quite a few things to say about your memories…”  
“You mean the memories that are buried away so deep even I can barely remember them?” you retorted. “Great. I’m sure that was a blast. What, did you cross-reference them with Ketch to see if they were lies or not?” You couldn’t help how cranky you were. Sure, it had only been a few days compared to the number of months it had been for Dean, but you were never going to get used to hunting things on such a large scale, no matter how much you thought you could.  
You expected Dean to snap right back at you, but he didn’t. He was quiet. When you turned to look at him it was like a lightbulb had lit up in his head. “No… I didn’t…” he mumbled.  
“I was being a bitch. Why would it matter?” you replied.  
“Because Michael told me that you put the moves on Ketch. That you instigated it. But maybe he was just saying that to piss me off. And Ketch would be the person to know what really went down.”  
“I don’t think even I want to know that. What if he wasn’t lying? That would just make both of us feel so much worse,” you argued.  
“Well, unfortunately, Michael also gave me some other graphic details that I definitely would like Castiel to remove from my brain,” he tried to joke.  
“Dean, this isn’t funny,” you whined.  
Dean sighed. “I know. I know it isn’t. But I want you to know that I’m past it, okay? I _know_ you’re _mine_.” He reached up and brushed your hair out of your face. “Always have been, always will be.”

 **March 10th, 2019**  
“Dean, would you _please_ tell me what is going on?” you whined as he dragged you out to the garage.  
“I told you, it’s date night,” he replied, opening the car door for you, but you didn’t get in.  
“If it’s date night, then I need to change into something better than jeans and a flannel,” you argued. “Plus it’s barely noon! How can it be date night?”  
“Fine, date _day_. You happy?”  
“You do remember when I said hunts don’t count, right?” you teased.  
“It’s not a hunt,” he sneered, taking your hand in his and using the other to lean against the roof of the impala, blocking you in. “It’s something special, I promise,” he murmured, his breath tickling your lips. _Thank Jack he’s back…_ “So would you just get in the car?” You slipped your free hand around the nape of his neck and pulled his lips to yours needily. You had spent way too long seeing Dean but not Dean and unable to even bear the thought of kissing him, let alone sex. But now he was Dean again, and he was all yours. “You know,” he tried to speak against your relentless lips. “You’re wasting time.”  
“Don’t care,” you breathed back, yanking him into the impala with you and lying back across the front seat.  
He grinned happily and crawled over you, pulling the door shut with his foot before kissing you again. You combed your fingers through his hair and sucked at his lower lip as he ground against you. “While I would _love_ to do this right here and now, I do have plans for the day, remember?” The low huskiness of his voice could’ve made you come then and there, but he was barely touching you.  
“Uh huh,” you whimpered at the loss of contact when he rolled back onto his knees and sat himself behind the wheel. You scootched back into your usual spot closer to the middle of the front seat and sat up as well, crossing your arms disappointedly. “You just did that to get me into the car,” you accused.  
Dean chuckled. “It worked, didn’t it?” he asked as he turned on the engine.  
“I hate you,” you said unconvincingly.  
“You love me,” he replied, wrapping his right arm around you and pulling you close, his other hand on the wheel as he drove out of ‘the batcave’.  
He was right-- you did love him. And you were so confused about what memories you had with him that had been real, and which ones were forged by Michael. You had so many still burning questions, ones you hoped Dean could help you answer. “Dean, can I ask you something?” you spoke up after a few minutes of nothing but the radio filling the silence.  
He glanced at you momentarily. “Anything,” he replied.  
“When Michael had you trapped… in your mind… What did he make you see?”  
Dean sighed, perhaps regretting his choice of words. “Well, I’d venture to guess it’s the same thing he made you see when he had you.”  
_Well that doesn’t answer the question._ “Just tell me, Dean. Please.”  
“I don’t know if I’m ready to have this conversation,” he mumbled, almost as if to himself.  
_What conversation?_ You panicked. “Baby, what’s wrong?” you asked, placing a hand against his chest.  
“Michael is gone. Lucifer is gone. As far as we know, we have nothing apocalyptic on our hands anymore. We can go back to hunting the way we used to, if that’s something you want,” he told you.  
You squinted, sensing there was something-- many things-- he was leaving out. “What do _you_ want?” you inquired, spiteful that you had to drag it out of him. But it was Dean, it was what you always had to do.  
He took a deep breath before saying what he did next. “Is it crazy if I wanna have a kid with you now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment on this guys so that I know how you're liking it before I accidentally write a crappy ending


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean have a new outlook on life.

**March 10th, 2019**  
It was as if you forgot how to function. You’d thought it was just in your wildest dreams that you got a do-over on your future together. If he wanted to have a kid, you wanted that too. “Um… y-y… h… sssnnn…” you stuttered, unable to form words. You felt like you might start choking on your own breath any moment.   
He panicked, thinking your response indicated hesitation. “Nevermind,” he said quickly. “It’s crazy, obviously.”   
You took a few deep breaths and collected your thoughts before speaking up again. “It’s not _that_ crazy… I mean… things are okay now… And we have a second chance at having a life together… But at the same time… a lot could happen in nine months… What if you lose me— _us_ again?”   
“Why are you so convinced Death is going to take you back at any minute?” Dean asked.   
“I don’t know, Dean, maybe because she said that I ‘disrupted the natural order’ by coming back. And having a kid together, she would lose her mind-- I mean, she hates the Winchester clan, probably more than anyone,” you confessed.   
“Yeah, well, she owes me one for taking care of Lucifer and Michael. She’s not gonna be on our asses anymore as long as the next time we die is the last,” he argued.   
“What are we gonna do? Keep hunting? Raise our kid like John raised you and Sam? I don’t know if I want that, Dean. And I don’t know how long I can stand a white picket fence, maybe in theory but not in practice, not sustainably,” you rambled.   
“Who says we can’t meet in the middle?”   
“Maybe you were right, this isn’t the best time to have this conversation,” you said. “Let’s just have our date day, and we’ll talk about it some more later tonight. It’s a big conversation, and we should treat it like one.”   
“I can live with that.” A few minutes later, he parked the car outside of a county fair, your eyes lighting up when you saw where you were. “Thought we could relive our greatest hits,” Dean told you. “And, I got us a DVD copy of the Han Solo movie we never got to see because… well, you know why. Anyway, outside of that, we can do whatever you want.”   
“Like stay in a fancy hotel for the night?” you inquired flirtatiously.  
He chuckled. “Like I said, whatever you want.”  
—  
Dean offered to let you pick the music for the drive to whatever nice hotel was nearby. “I thought shotgun shuts his cakehole?” you asked teasingly.   
“You’re not just any shotgun, though,” he told you. “Plus, I know you won’t make me listen to the crap new age stuff that Sam is into.”  
You chuckled. “I actually did discover some new stuff I like.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket and plugged in the aux cassette cord, scrolling through the artists. There was no way Dean had heard them already, but you knew he’d claim he had. He loved Led Zeppelin too much to dislike Greta Van Fleet. You decided _Safari Song_ was probably your best bet to get him amped up about the idea of a newer rock band.   
By the time the chorus came around the second time, Dean was drumming against the steering wheel and bopping his head. “You said this was new? You sure it’s not just new to you?” he questioned, turning the volume down just a tad.  
“It’s new. As in, wasn’t already out when Amara brought me back. 2017,” you stated.   
Dean looked at you doubtfully. “Are you sure? Sounds like Zeppelin.”  
“Nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’. “Greta Van Fleet. Four guys in their mid-twenties.”   
He shook his head. “No. No way.”   
“They’re on tour if you wanna go see them. I actually kinda would, their music is really good,” you admitted.   
“I think that’s doable,” Dean agreed. “They got any shows out where we had the wedding?”   
You googled away on the wonderful piece of technology that was now a phone. “Yeah, actually, two nights. September 23rd and 24th.”  
“Make one of ‘em a date,” he told you.   
—   
You were ready to fall asleep by the time the trademark Star Wars credits began to roll. “That was awesome,” Dean mused before he noticed your eyes begin to flutter shut. “Okay, let’s go to sleep,” he chortled.   
You inhaled sharply, sitting up. “No, no I’m up,” you protested. You wanted to take advantage of being alone in a hotel room with Dean, but he was _not_ having it during the movie.   
He leaned over you and wrapped his arm around your waist, sliding your body back down onto the bed. “You’re tired,” he insisted, planting soft kisses along your jaw and down your neck. “And I asked for a late checkout time…” You moaned as his tongue swirled over your collarbone. “I know how much you like morning sex… especially in a nice bed like this…” he murmured.   
“Well, I’m quite awake now, so I guess we’ll just have to have it both ways,” you concluded.   
“Oh, is that so?” he remarked, moving back to your lips.   
“Mhmmm,” you hummed, parting your legs and rubbing yourself against him. “It’s been too long since I had you to myself,” you whispered when he pulled away for air.   
He leaned back and slid his shirt over his head. “I couldn’t agree more.” Then he started stripping you, kissing every inch of skin that was revealed with each article he removed. “I love you so much,” he breathed.   
“Take off your pants and do me,” you commanded. He snickered and removed the last of the cloth barriers before hovering over you again, gazing into your eyes. “What?” you giggled.   
“Have a kid with me.”   
“Dean,” you sighed, nervous to broach the subject again, especially when you were in the middle of sexy time.   
“I wanna experience every part of life with you,” he explained. “Including creating one together. Look at everything we’ve been through since you were brought back— I think we can handle welcoming a new member to the family.”   
“I’m still scared, Dean,” you admitted. “It’s just too easy to die… But maybe if nothing comes up in the next few months I’ll have a different feeling about it. Lucky for you, my body is still young enough that we have some time to think about it.”   
He pressed his forehead against yours and groaned playfully. “Fine.”   
You lightly smacked his arm before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. His dick pressed against your hip and you spread your legs, rubbing your clit against the tip. “Are we gonna do this or what?” you purred, tugging the hairs at the nape of his neck.   
He reached down and dragged his cock through your folds before lining himself up and sliding in, eliciting sinful moans from you as you felt him fill you. “Fuck, babe,” he grunted before starting a slow rhythm. “Feel so good…”  
“ _You_ feel so good,” you countered, wrapping your legs around his waist to give him a better angle. He cupped your face in one hand and squeezed your ribcage with the other, propping himself up on his forearm. “Ugh, Dean,” you moaned, feeling him hit your sweet spot with every thrust.   
His lips were instantly back on yours as he fucked you into the mattress, his hands making their way to grip your asscheeks. “[Y/N],” he panted, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts before ducking down to suck one of your nipples, then turning his attention to the other. The tingle it sent down your spine caused you to buck up beneath him. “Wanna make you come, honey…” he whispered against your skin as one hand braced itself on the mattress and the other slid around to rub your clit. Then the tension in your core just snapped and you cried out; your walls pulsed and clenched around him while your body shook through the tremors. When you opened your eyes, he was wearing that sexy smile of his, satisfied with his work. “Love making you make those noises,” he bragged before slowing to an agonizing pace, the aftershocks of your orgasm still vibrating through you. “Now I’m gonna fill you up… nice and slow…”   
_Holy shit,_ you loved it when he talked dirty to you like that. “Please,” you whined, pulling him deeper but no less slowly.   
A couple more draws in and out and you felt him coming inside of you, sparking another smaller orgasm for you. He slumped down on top of you, relaxing his body but not putting his whole weight on you. “Wow,” he panted.   
“Uh huh… wow,” you gasped back, giggling. “But in the morning… I wanna be on top.” 

**April 25th, 2019**  
Chuck stepped in when Jack got out of control. He had drained you-don’t-know-how-much of his soul by saving you and the guys a myriad of times. Now he stood behind Dean, who was pointing a God-gun at the soulless Nephilim on his knees. Once you and Castiel escaped the crypt, you sprinted towards Dean. “Dean, don’t!” you screamed. Castiel caught up to you and held you back, preventing you from entering the line of fire. “You can’t!” you protested.   
“I have to,” he replied, cocking back the safety.   
Jack nodded. “It’s okay, Dean. I understand. I’ve done bad things, things I regret,” the boy said.   
Dean contemplated for several moments before tossing the gun onto the ground. “No!” Chuck shouted, circling around to pick up the gun and hand it to Dean. “Kill him,” he demanded.   
Dean slapped the weapon away. “No. I’m not playing in your little tv show anymore,” he decided. Sam sneaked the gun then.  
Chuck stepped back and nodded. “Oh? You wanna be that way? Fine.” With a snap of his fingers, a blinding light shot out from Jack’s eyes and mouth, and he was smote.   
“No!” you screamed, tears running down your face as you fell to your knees, taking Castiel to the ground with you. _He was just a kid…_  
“Hey Chuck,” Sam yelled, grabbing the god’s attention before shooting him square in the shoulder.   
“Agh,” he groaned, doubling over. “Consider this the end,” Chuck sneered before snapping again and disappearing. Then the Earth quaked around you, and you and the boys huddled together as a fissure opened in the ground and spirits came flying out by the hundreds. 

**May 2nd, 2019**  
You were already in the kitchen preparing what you knew to be Sam’s favorite breakfast when he trudged in in the morning, both of you cheerful to be in an apocalypse-free world once again. “Hey, happy birthday,” you greeted your brother. “How’s the shoulder?”   
Sam shook his head. “Getting better. But I’m having these crazy dreams…”  
“You’re having crazy dreams? That’s never good,” you replied, sliding him a breakfast smoothie.  
Sam scoffed. “Yeah, tell me about it… Hey, have you been sensing anything weird around the bunker lately?”   
You narrowed your eyes, unsure what he was referring to. “Um, not really, why?”  
“I don’t know…”  
You shrugged, stirring the omelette mixture you were making for Sam. “Maybe it has something to do with those crazy dreams.”   
“Yeah, maybe…” he mumbled.   
You poured the concoction into the pan and grabbed the spatula you had on standby. “Alright birthday boy, we can do some kind of family day activity, or me and Dean can scat. Your choice,” you offered, knowing he would probably choose the former.   
“Family day, hands down,” he scoffed.  
“I don’t know why I even ask anymore,” you chuckled. “Maybe we can head out to a beach,” you suggested.   
Beach day was quickly postponed when you all discovered that Eileen had been trapped in the veil and was trying to make contact with you. Instead, Sam opted to spend the day with her on a field trip to Rowena’s to find a spell that might help her, leaving you and Dean on your own.   
“So, it looks like we’re not on God’s hamster wheel anymore,” Dean pointed out, pulling you close.   
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” you responded, draping your arms around his neck. But you were still mourning Jack, and even though Dean was doing his best to ignore it, he was too. “But there’s still monsters to hunt.”   
“I know. But maybe we could still have a life. Doesn’t mean we have to stop hunting,” he proposed.   
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this determined to have something so… heteronormative,” you admitted.   
Dean chuckled and looked down. “It’s not the normalcy I want. It’s you.”

**May 5th, 2019**  
And normalcy honestly felt achievable by the time Sam had brought Eileen back, and the four of you went on a double date of sorts. You’d probably had too many margaritas by the time Dean drove everyone back to the bunker, and you were particularly susceptible to the possibility of more normal nights like that.   
As soon as you and Dean were alone in the bedroom, you latched onto him, kissing him roughly. His hands instinctively gripped your hips and pulled you close while he returned the kiss. “How tipsy are you?” he murmured after you pulled away for air.   
You giggled, knowing that the honest answer was probably _too_ tipsy. “Enough to want you to put a baby in me,” you flirted drunkenly.   
Dean smiled that soft grin before taking your face in his hands. “Maybe later. When you’re sober, eh?” You zoned out into those beautiful mossy eyes and the little eye crinkles that you had grown extremely fond of since you’d been back. You couldn’t even remember what he’d asked you, so you just nodded and hummed. “Okay,” he chuckled, guiding you to the bed and removing your boots and jeans so you could sleep comfortably. 

**July 12th, 2019**  
 _The words echoed in your head, and everything felt like it was going in slow motion. “God’s not gone.” You hit the ground before you knew it._  
Dean slid to his knees as fast as he could to catch you. “Thanks for telling her to sit down first,” Dean muttered sarcastically to Sam.  
“I didn’t think she was gonna pass out,” Sam defended himself.   
“Yeah, well now seems as good a time as any to tell you— you’re gonna be an uncle, Sammy.” Dean patted your face. “Come on, sweetheart.”   
_God’s not gone…_ Your eyes fluttered open to see Dean and Sam huddled over you in the infirmary. “Space, please?” you requested.   
They backed up and Dean reached to hand you a glass of water from the table. “You okay?” he asked.   
“Fine,” you replied before taking a sip. “Just fine. God is still fucking with us, but everything’s fine,” you hissed. “What are we gonna do?” Because you, quite frankly, were thrown for a loop.   
“We’ll figure it out,” Sam assured you.   
“Hey Sam, give us a minute would ya?” Dean asked, sitting on the bed beside you.   
“Sure,” Sam nodded. “Eileen and I are gonna be in the library if you need us.”  
You chugged the rest of your water and hung your head defeatedly. “Hey,” Dean said, placing his hand on your knee. “It’s gonna be okay,” he told you, but you knew even he didn’t believe it.   
“How much you wanna bet Chuck is gonna kill me again just for kicks? Probably the same way, too. You know he gets off on that shit,” you muttered.   
“We aren’t gonna talk about that. We’re gonna do what we can to stop him. Even if we all die trying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I NEED COMMENTS BABES. I liked the series finale (for the most part), so if you hated it a lot, then you may not like my ending since I went mostly with canon. LET ME KNOW HOW YOU ARE LIKING THE STORY AS I WRAP IT UP.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader are faced with a familiar decision to make. The Winchesters defeat their last enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter babes! Hope it doesn't disappoint!

**September 16th, 2019**  
Much to your (and Dean’s) dismay, Ketch had been called to the bunker to babysit you while Dean and Cas left to find Sam and Eileen. Fortunately for you, he was effectively your slave, and you could annoy him as much as you wanted to. “Ketch!” you shouted. “More chocolate!” Then your phone started ringing with a call from Dean. “Hey baby,” you answered.   
“Hey sweetheart, we’re… on the way home.”  
“Did you get things sorted out with Sam?” you asked.   
“Sort of. Eileen is probably gonna pack up when we get back,” he responded.   
You frowned. “What? Why?” You loved having another woman in the bunker, especially another hunter. You’d even started signing for her.   
“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you when we get back.”  
“Isn’t everything a long story with you?” you questioned.   
He snickered. “I love you. We’re just a few hours out. How’s Ketch treatin’ ya?”   
“Fine, I guess,” you said into the phone before raising your voice. “Although it doesn’t sound like he’s bringing me my chocolate!”   
Dean laughed again. “Want me to grab some greasy diner food for you?” he offered.  
“Always. Are you okay, though? Did you get hurt?” you wondered, wanting to make sure he wasn’t on the brink of death.   
“Nah, I’m good, honey. I’m just worried about you and the little avocado,” he told you, making you affectionately look down at your baby bump.   
“Me and the avocado are good,” you giggled. “Is our team still winning?”   
“For now,” Dean sighed. “Sort of.”  
“Well that sounds very convincing,” you teased.   
“We agreed not to worry about it too much. That’s what I’m trying to do— not worry too much.”  
“Dean…”  
He interrupted you. “Listen, honey, what sounds good to me right now is just getting home to you as fast as possible, and sittin’ in the bathtub together. Okay?”  
“Okay,” you exhaled, reaching your arm out when you saw Ketch approaching you with a bag of chocolates.   
“Save some of those chocolates for me, hun,” he teased upon hearing the crinkling of the bag.   
“If you get here soon enough with that diner food, I won’t have to,” you flirted.   
“We’ll see you soon,” he chuckled before hanging up. Dean and the others took a few hours to return to the bunker, giving you more than enough time to fall asleep before they got back. His gentle touch on your stomach and the smell of bacon woke you up. “Hey there,” Dean cooed. “You tired?”  
You stretched and sat up, taking the paper bag from his grasp. “Not anymore. Now I’m just hungry,” you told him, removing the contents of the bag. “So what happened?”  
Dean started changing into his pajamas while he explained. “It was Chuck. We thought we had a way to lock him away like he did to Amara, but Sam said it wouldn’t work. So we had to book it out. Turns out he’s been using Eileen as his eyes around the bunker. That’s why she’s leaving.”   
“Then let’s go eat in the war room so we can say goodbye,” you suggested.   
“I would venture to guess that she’s at least staying the night,” he replied, climbing into bed next to you.   
“ _Oh._ Lemme guess- she and Sam?” you asked. Dean nodded and you both chuckled. “Good. I like her. She’s good for him,” you said. “And it’s about damn time.”  
Dean checked his phone while you ate, and his eyes widened. “Shit,” he hissed.   
“What?” you wondered, your mouth half-full.   
He turned to you and raised his brows with a coy smile. “Belated wedding anniversary inside tomorrow?”   
“Oh my god is that today?” you panicked. They had been gone for a few days, and it wasn’t exactly like you could tell when it was day and night from inside your room at the bunker. And Ketch had been a suspiciously good caretaker, letting you have as much food, water, sleep, tylenol, and whatever else you bothered him for as you needed. It was almost like he had grown a conscience— a pleasant surprise.   
He raised his eyebrows. “Wow, _I_ remembered before you did. That’s gotta get me some name-choosing points,” he chastised.   
“What, you don’t like Nate and Addie?” you questioned.  
“I do, but we never got to talk about it. Y’know?”   
You shrugged. “Yeah. Okay, so what are you thinking? And no, do not say Han. I’m not big on naming them after other people or things.”  
Dean frowned. “Why don’t you tell me some of _your_ other contenders that you thought I would think were stupid?” he countered.   
You squinted. “Did you really listen to my voicemail _that_ much?” you wondered in disbelief.   
“It was a really rough decade without you, [Y/N],” he replied quietly.   
You nodded. “I know. But I’m here with you now, doing what I can to help you get through this… God… stuff… You know, all things considered. I’m gonna be too big to even go get groceries pretty soon,” you told him. “But what I can do is research. I gotta say, I actually might even like researching more than active hunting now,” you admitted.  
“You know that I’m a-okay with whatever you want. Especially if it keeps you out of harm’s way.”  
“But then I wouldn’t be able to keep you out of harm’s way,” you argued.   
“I’ll be just fine, you know that.”  
“No, because every other time you’ve died you’ve come back. And we both know Billie isn’t letting that fly anymore. For _any_ Winchester. What if you don’t come home one day?”  
Dean sighed. “Can we talk about this later?” You nodded in silence. “Lemme hear those names.”

**November 1st, 2019**  
You were waiting for Sam and Dean to (hopefully) return with a little more luck than Chuck had left them with, while Castiel was off on his own case. When you heard two sets of footsteps, you assumed it was the brothers. “Hey guys!” you called from the ‘Dean Cave’, which had been rebranded as the ‘[Y/N] Cave’ since you were big enough to have to stay in the bunker.   
But it was Castiel’s voice that called back, “Hello, [Y/N].”   
“Cas?” you wondered, bracing yourself against the armrests of the Lazyboy to stand up and follow the voice. By the time you waddled to the entrance of the library, Cas emerged from behind one of the bookshelves. “Oh, it sounded like someone was with you,” you realized when you saw it was just him. Or so you thought, until Jack followed suit. “Jack,” you whispered, wanting to run over to him and hug him as tightly as you could. “Is that really you?” you asked.   
Jack curled his lip up in a half-smile and walked over to where you were, opening his arms out for you. You eagerly threw your arms around his shoulders and buried your head in the crook of his neck. Castiel gently pulled you away from the boy. “He is still without a soul, but he’s learned to control himself now. He’s going to help us with Chuck,” Cas explained.   
“Billie said we had to wait until God was ‘off-world’ before she could bring me back,” Jack added.

**February 19th, 2020  
4:08pm**  
You and Dean were in your Couple Cave watching a movie when you felt the first contraction. He turned to you as soon as your nails started digging into his hand and your face contorted in discomfort. “Baby?” he worried.   
“Yep,” you groaned, placing your other hand over your watermelon-sized stomach. “Baby. Baby comin’... Dean… Hospital… Please…”  
“Jack!” Dean shouted, getting up to help you stand. Jack (who now had his soul back) was accompanied by Sam and Castiel a few moments later. “Can you give us a lift?” Dean pleaded. Jack nodded and scooped you into his arms. “We’ll meet you at the nearest hospital, got it?” Dean instructed.   
With a flap of his wings, you were outside of the facility. Jack gently placed you back on your feet. “Over here,” he said, guiding you to the wheelchairs in the atrium and helping you into one. “Hi, we need help, my friend is having a baby!” he called shyly once inside. 

**10:51pm**  
You were laying back against Dean as you held the blanketed bundle in your arms. “It’s like our own little miracle,” he mused, his breath tickling your ear.   
“ _She’s_ our little miracle,” you corrected, gazing at the sleeping baby.   
“Still like the name we settled on?” he asked.   
You smiled, remembering the conversation you’d had about names. “I do,” you replied happily. “Do you?”   
Dean kissed your temple before answering. “Yeah,” he murmured.   
“Why don’t you go get the guys and we’ll introduce them to her?” you suggested.   
Dean struggled to roll out of the hospital bed, but came back with Sam, Jack, and Cas. You giggled when you saw that Sam was on the verge of tears. You handed your daughter to Dean. “Guys, meet Harley Logan Winchester,” he told them as they gathered around him. 

**April 30th, 2020**  
Harley was barely two months old when you were met with the news that Chuck had decided to start destroying worlds, presumably saving yours for last. “Dean, we need to get her somewhere safe,” you told him, cradling the baby in your arms.   
“No, we need to get _both_ of you somewhere safe,” he argued.   
You shook your head. “I’m not sitting out on this. There’s too much at stake. We’ll take Harley to Donna or Jody, and I’m coming with you to do whatever it is we have to do in order to stop this. Our daughter is going to grow up. Even if I have to sacrifice my life for hers,” you declared.   
Dean sighed before looking deep into your eyes, his expression reflecting yours. “Okay.”

**August 15th, 2020**  
 _“I don’t like loose ends, Dean. So get your house in order,” Billie’s words echoed in Dean’s head. He hadn’t told her or Sam about Jack’s death sentence yet._  
You were speechless. You couldn’t accept that Jack had to die again, that _this_ was part of some cosmic plan. Sam couldn’t either. “Stop! Just stop!” Sam yelled at his brother while you remained silent in the backseat.   
“[Y/N]?” Dean whimpered. You didn’t respond— you didn’t know what to say. And you were conflicted about what exactly you all were doing to Amara. She was the reason you were back, and you knew she’d only done it because she felt so bonded to Dean.   
“We fight for family, Dean,” Sam said firmly.   
“That’s what I’m doing, Sam,” Dean grumbled back.   
“By sending Jack off to his death and not telling us?” Sam countered.   
“Shut up. Both of you,” you hissed. “Just shut up.”

**August 18th, 2020**  
Jack had lit the fuse, but Chuck and Amara got away, so Billie sent him to the Empty and demanded that Sam return God’s Death Book. She placed her scythe against the table and sauntered over to Sam to pick up the book. “Interesting,” she said upon reading the new ending before summoning Jack back. You had never trusted her. It seemed far too easy that she just had a plan all figured out for you and all you had to do was go along with it, and Dean was convinced that plan would get him out of the hamster wheel. But you knew better. You inched closer to where the scythe was placed and snuck your fingers around it. “The boy is mine!” she shouted when Dean lunged forward for Jack. It allowed you enough time to swipe the scythe across her upper arm, emitting a grace-like glow. With a flick of her wrist, she threw you (and the scythe) across the room, and within seconds she was gone, leaving Jack behind with you all.   
—  
Neither you nor Dean could fall asleep that night. “Sam and Jack are gonna go get Harley and the hunters together in the morning. You sure you don’t want to trade places with Sam or Cas?” he suggested.   
“No, I’m not going to be a sitting duck this time. I’m helping you end this.”  
“You’re not worried about Harley?” he wondered.  
“Of course I am,” you told him. He had been doing a little too much doubting you lately. If you had to spend a few months away from your daughter in order to guarantee her lifelong safety, it was worth it. And you knew Dean felt the same way, he just didn’t want you to feel it, too. “Don’t act like you’re better than me just because you’ve survived more. I can handle myself.”  
“I’m not better than you, that’s my whole point. If Harley can only have one of us, I’d rather it be you,” he argued.  
“I’m not going there right now.” Your mind was focused on another fact. “Dean… if Billie comes for me…” you began to say, knowing she held a grudge.  
Dean pulled your face to his and shut you up with a passionate kiss. “Just be with me right now,” he breathed against your lips as he pulled you onto his lap. And who were you to say no?  
You and Dean didn’t just fuck or have sex that night; you made love like it was the end of the world, because it could be. Once you were both finally tired out enough, you cuddled up together, resting your head on Dean’s chest and tangling your legs in his. He had one arm wrapped around you, lightly running his fingers up and down the length of your body, and the other arm folded behind his head. “Dean…” you murmured, toying with the wisps of hair around his belly button. “The last time I died I could’ve— I should’ve said something to you before it happened. And I don’t want to make that same mistake twice… So we go to her library _together_. We finish this _together_.”   
Dean kissed the top of your head. “Okay.” But you knew he wouldn’t be okay with what you had to say next.  
“And if I die, you promise me you’ll save the world without me. No cosmic deals to get me back. I need you to keep Harley safe.”

**August 19th, 2020**  
Dean yielded the scythe while the two of you confronted Death in her library, leaving you armed with an angel blade in each hand and a gun with angel-killing bullets on each of your hips. Cas was on standby in the bunker by the door. “Your wife killed me, Dean,” Billie revealed as he held the scythe against her throat. “And for that, I’m going to even the odds. Put her back where she belongs,” she threatened, right before attacking Dean and reclaiming her scythe.   
Dean was already on the floor by the time she swung it into you, taking you by surprise. You felt the pain in your sternum, the familiar feeling of dying. “No!” he screamed. But Billie was already surging towards him, forcing him to leave your body behind while he ran.   
***  
 _Dean was cuddled up to you in your hospital bed, your baby girl swaddled in your arms. “I guess that Djinn was wrong,” you joked to him, triggering a chuckle. “She doesn’t look like an Adelaide anyway…”  
“No, but she does look like a Harley, doesn’t she?” Dean murmured, eliciting a giggle from you.   
Suddenly you were no longer in the hospital, but standing by a lake before Jack. You frowned and furrowed your brows. “Where am I?” you asked suspiciously.   
He smiled. “Heaven,” Jack replied. “I fixed it. Well, we did.”   
All of your memories from both your lives on Earth and your previous time in Heaven came flooding back to you, and you smiled, happy that you and Dean had finally won. “And Harley?” you wondered. “Is she okay?”  
Jack’s grin widened. “Dean and Sam have been fantastic fathers to her,” he told you.   
“What am I supposed to do now?”  
“Enjoy the afterlife you deserve.”_  
***  
“Where’s [Y/N]?” Castiel asked when Dean returned.   
Dean didn’t look at Cas, just grabbed him by the trenchcoat and dragged him to the safest place in the bunker that he could think of— the dungeon. “Billie got her, and we’re next, we gotta do something,” Dean spat, trying not to dwell on _her_.  
But within the hour, he sat on the floor of the dungeon alone in despair. He had just lost the mother of his child and his best friend all at the same time, and although he knew Sam and Jack were in very real trouble trying to protect his daughter and the rest of their friends, he couldn’t be bothered to answer his brother’s phone call. Once he collected his thoughts, he went back to Death’s Library to retrieve your corpse, thankful he had the opportunity this time.

**November 19th, 2020**  
 _Jack had his eyes closed and was focused on bringing everyone back, little Harley suddenly appearing in Dean’s arms. “What about [Y/N]?” he asked desperately. “Can you bring her back?”  
“She’s at peace with the finality of her death,” Jack replied. “She hopes that you know she wants you to finally live the life you deserve.”  
“But how can I enjoy it if…” his voice trembled. “If she’s gone?”   
“Keep making the world a better place for Harley. And take care of her.”_  
Dean had been doing his best to carry on business as usual since [Y/N] had died. But Sam knew a part of him was still repressing things, even with Harley around to distract him from it all. It was the trip to the Pie Fest that tipped Dean off to his last hunt. Donna was nearby, so they dropped Harley off with her before heading into the monster territory.   
“I can’t do this without you Dean,” Sam whimpered to his dying brother, Dean’s speech having nearly broken him.   
“Yes you can,” Dean encouraged.   
Sam shook his head. “Well, I don’t want to.”   
“Give my daughter a good life, Sam… I know you’ll take care of her.”  
“Please don’t leave me, Dean,” Sam begged.   
“I need you… to tell me… that it’s okay… to go be with [Y/N] now…” Dean gasped. Sam did as he was asked just before Dean took his last breath.   
Eileen was there to comfort Sam when he burned his brother’s body, and every moment after. They looked after Harley like one of their own, and eventually had one of their own-- Dean. The cousins grew up in a fairly peaceful world and didn’t have to worry about monsters too much, although Sam passed on the knowledge he and Harley’s parents had had. Dean was the Man of Honor at Harley’s wedding not long before Sam passed, and Harley was right by her uncle’s side when it happened. Sam had made sure she never doubted that everything you and Dean had done in your lives had been for her.  
***  
 _Dean pulled Baby to a stop on a bridge overrunning a gorgeous stream. You stayed in the car while he got out and leaned up against the railing, smiling when you saw Sam walk up behind him. “Hiya Sammy,” Dean called back, not even needing to look._  
“Dean,” Sam replied.   
You gave them a few minutes before you got out of the impala to join them. “Boys,” you greeted them, wrapping an arm around each of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering doing a part 4 called "Wasted Moments" and it would basically be a bunch of fluff and smut from between the other chapters throughout the series-- let me know what you think of this idea.


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